


The Ancient Dream of Immortality

by celedan



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angry Sex, Clones, Eventual Happy Ending, Future Fic, Genetic Engineering, M/M, The Flesh (Doctor Who) - Freeform, Torchwood Two, conflicting emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 17:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: Jack meets a young reporter named Jenny. Together, they uncover a ruthless billionaire's scheming to become immortal. When they discover his experiments to achieve his goal, Jack and Jenny are horrified, and determined to end this cruelty once and for all. But Jack hasn't counted on the personal stakes for him and his past that come to haunt him now.





	The Ancient Dream of Immortality

Jack gasped back to life. He was disorientated for a minute like he always was in the first few moments (made better when someone was there to hold and ground him, but there hadn't been anyone like that for a long time).

Then he remembered. Pub brawl gone wrong.

Didn't matter if in the 19 th  or the 26  th  century, a pub brawl was the same in either century or planet.

He should really stop that.

A loud gasp caused him to spin around. A young woman pressed herself against the cold brick wall of the alley he had been killed in. A petite blond, really cute with large, innocent eyes, but at the same time looking kinda tough. At the moment though, her pretty blue-grey eyes were widened in shock as she stared at him. Couldn't blame her.

“All right there?” he asked, trying to muster up as much charm as he could in his still addled state. Then he frowned. “I know y... Oh.” Jack's face fell. “You again.”

Remarkably, the young woman ruthlessly shoved her terror away at having seen him resurrect, and straightened up, determination crossing her pretty features. “Y-yes. Me again.”

“Why are you following me?” Jack asked, exasperated, picking himself up into a kneeling position carefully until his head stopped spinning. A sharp pain ran along his spine like licking flames. He gasped involuntarily. “What the...” he tried to feel for any lingering wounds although he couldn't remember that his back had been hurt.

“I'm not following you,” she insisted.

“Yeah, right,” Jack laughed mockingly at her. “Could you do me a favour, and check my back for any injuries?” If they were minor enough, they wouldn't have healed when he resurrected, leaving them to heal on their own (albeit at his much faster healing rate).

Nervously, she came over to him, helping him push his shirt to the side (in unfortunate situations like these, Jack was glad that nowadays he didn't wear his coat as often as he had, wanting to spare the centuries old material a bit). She gasped once more, but this time not in terror but in fury. “They took samples!”

“Wha...” Now becoming furious himself, Jack shrugged his shirt back down, unmindful of the pain that slowly ebbed away into a sore throbbing, and spun around to her. “What are you talking about?! What the fuck is going on here?” He glared at her. “You claimed to be an investigative reporter, Jennifer Minogue, but there is nothing to investigate about me.”

She snorted unladylike at that. “That's clearly open for discussion.” She took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she looked straight at Jack. “All right, I'll tell you. Maybe you can even help me.”

Jack sniffed haughtily. “Why should I? I'm not awfully fond of your bunch. Too noisy. And that's telling coming from me.”

“Because these injuries on your back,” Miss Minogue explained, ignoring his quib, “they stem from samples being taken. From your spinal cord to be exact. And I'm not investigating you but the people who did this.”

“Why? Who are they?”

“Ever heard of Ralph Brummell?”

Jack frowned. “I knew Beau Brummell back in the time – wasn't really as fascinating as history books say, I was a much more dashing dandy* –, but a Ralph Brummell... no.”

“He is CEO of the Winterbreak Company in London.”

“I've heard of them. Aren't they a big deal in genetics?”

“They are.” She held out her hand to Jack to pull him up onto his feet. Reluctantly, he accepted her help.

“Then, what are they doing in Cardiff?”

“Looking for you.”

“Me?!”

“Granted, for me, it was a shock that you seem to be... immortal or whatever, but _they_ surely knew. I've been investigating them for a while now, and when I hacked into their files, I found mentions of a Captain Jack Harkness.” Miss Minogue shrugged. “And now I'm here. I wanted to get to know you to find out why they are pursuing you, but that question answered itself tonight.”

“Wait a minute. You wanna tell me they have taken samples from me because they want to... to do what? Use them in some dubious genetic experiment?”

“Yes.” The reporter looked firmly at Jack, completely convinced of her theory.

Jack scoffed. “You can't take my DNA and replicate my immortality if it's that they're after.” Inwardly, he cringed as he recalled the mess with the Miracle early 21 st  century and how he had transferred his immortality on to Rex Matheson via his blood. Rex was still alive and kicking, the effect hadn't worn off. And he was still not speaking to Jack, instead preferring to sulk his way through the various bars of the Galaxies (Nonetheless, Jack had him under surveillance, hoping that the effect _would_ wear off one day for Rex' sake). Another life Jack had destroyed...

Anyway. Maybe these people had somehow gotten knowledge of what had happened back then, maybe... Jack's blood ran cold. Maybe they were in some ways affiliated to the Families, maybe were even their descendants... Oh, that would be really bad.

“They seem to think they can,” Miss Minogue continued, unfazed, and broke Jack from his frantic musings. “I mentioned their CEO, Brummell. He is over a hundred and fifty years old by now thanks to modern medicine and technology, but that seems not enough for him. In an interview he once stated that he would find the key to immortality.” She nodded at Jack. “And he seems to have found it.”

“Yeah, yeah, this old cliché,” Jack bristled. “They all want to become immortal, but let me tell you, it's a curse, that's what it is. Do you think watching all your loved ones die is a walk in the park?! Every time I befriend new people, every time I fall in love again, I do it with the certain knowledge that one day, I will have to watch them die.”

“It's a horrible image,” Miss Minogue admitted in a compassionate voice.

“It is, but all these people that are so gagging for immortality won't ever listen to me.”

The young woman shrugged. “They're probably egoistical enough not to care if they are alone or not.”

“Yeah, maybe you're right,” Jack spat bitterly. “I wish I was as well.” He shook his head. He wasn't yet. Maybe one day, he wouldn't care any more if he was alone or not... He wasn't sure if that would be a relief for him or just another curse... “Whatever. And you think they are trying to make Brummell immortal through my DNA?”

“They're working on it for ages now. I think you are the last puzzle piece.”

“Then we have to stop them.”

“We?” She drily raised an eyebrow. “Now it's _we_?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack waved his hand dismissively. “I'll help you, all right.”

She chuckled in triumph, but nodded briskly. “Good. Then let's go to my hotel room.”

Jack couldn't help himself, he grinned at her suggestively, and waggled his eyebrows. “You could have just said.”

She harrumphed, exasperated, but nonetheless blushed to the roots of her blond hair. “Idiot,” she muttered. “All my notes are there.”

“I gathered,” Jack reassured her, but still had this mischievous twinkle in his eyes. She was kinda cute in her flustered state. But the flirting would have to wait for now. The situation seemed too urgent at the moment to stall any longer. Jack therefore mock-bowed before her gentlemanly. “Lead on, Miss Minogue.”

She did, rushing briskly from the back-alley they were in. “You may call me Jenny,” she grumbled, Jack's answering merry laugh ringing in her ears mockingly.

Jenny's hotel wasn't far, only a few minutes to walk down to the bay, an area Jack tried to avoid when he was here, but at the same time was drawn to magically in remembrance.

Relieved, Jack let himself fall into the nearest armchair as soon as the hotel room door had closed behind them. He was still sore, his back now itched and burned unpleasantly. Who the Hell had they let at his back, butchering it up like that!? Weren't there any professionals out there any more who at least could do the job right if they had to go and ambush him?

Calmly, he watched Jenny shed her coat and shoes. Then, she sat down at the table before this century's version of a laptop, and powered it up.

“I have a friend with the government. He owes me a favour. He'll give us access to the CCTV in the back alley. Our luck that the pub monitors its back entrance.”

“Yeah, lucky us,” Jack muttered, and heaved himself up. He sat down next to her at the table, and chanced a peek at the monitor of the laptop while Jenny punched away at the keyboard.

“Yes!” she crowed. “He's fast.”

“You got the CCTV already?”

“I do.”

“You know, I could have acquired the footage as well equally as fast,” he explained nonchalantly, leaning back with a smug grin. “I still have resources here in Cardiff even if Torchwood doesn't exist any more.”

She paused in her typing to glare at him, then raised her eyebrow questioningly. “What's Torchwood?”

Jack raised an eyebrow himself, baffled. “You checked me up, but don't know what Torchwood is? Your contacts can't be that good then if they didn't even uncover _that_.”

Jenny pouted, growling. “That's not what interested me about you.”

A lascivious grin once more wanted to make its way onto his face, and a fitting suggestive comment was at the tip of his tongue, but Jenny hastily raised her hand to stop him. “No,” she said firmly. “Don't say anything. Save your energy for more important things like uncovering Brummell's scheming.”

With more force than necessary, she punched a button to start the video footage.

Together, they watched the grizzly pictures.

“There,” she pointed out. “That's you.”

And indeed, the back door opened, and a bunch of men stumbled into the alley, Jack at the front of them, trying to make a hasty escape.

They watched the fight unfold, Jenny shaking her head, and muttering “men!” under her breath while Jack got the rare chance to watch himself fight, being vexed by the flaws in his fighting he detected once and again (okay, granted, it had been one against four, all of them, including himself, drunk). One of these mistakes led to a glass bottle being smashed on his head. Crashing to the ground, Jack cracked his head on the edge of a dumpster. He stayed down, unmoving.

The other men stared down at his lifeless form, then they scrambled from the alley in a haste.

“Cowards,” Jack grumbled, put out.

But he snapped his mouth shut again as a few moments later, a dark van parked at the other end of the alley, and three men climbed out, purposefully approaching Jack.

Muttering angrily, Jack had to watch as the men drew quite the amount of blood, and then proceeded to cut open Jack's back for whatever further samples they wanted.

They left him behind in the dank alley when they were finished.

Jenny stopped the video just as she appeared on the screen herself and scrambled over to Jack to check for any signs of life.

They sat back, staring mutely at the laptop.

“They were Brummell's people all right,” Jenny eventually stated darkly. “I recognised one of them.”

Jack nodded. “So, now we know where to further investigate.”

“Yes. I'm only glad they took the samples the traditional way.”

“Yeah, I'm really glad, too,” Jack muttered sarcastically, thinking about the remaining pain in his back.

Jenny threw him a look. “If they'd used the new method, we'd never have been able to say for sure if they had even taken any samples from you. Or who did it.”

Jack made a non-committal noise. She had a point there. The 26 th  century was awfully proud of a new procedure to analyse things. The program was able to take samples simply if the intended subject was visible on a monitor without even having actual access. Jack had never completely understood how this worked; it was something about the program reconstructing the DNA by analysing the picture of the person, all highly complicated, and outside of his range of knowledge. Especially for jurisdiction, the possibilities were revolutionary though. But Jack knew that this miracle of a procedure soon would be officially forbidden because the damage that could be done with it was bigger than the benefits. In fact, he himself had once helped the Time Agency to shut down this program...

“So,” he said eventually, crossing his arms before his chest. “What are we gonna do now?”

“We need proof that Brummell's concocting up something illegal, tampering with your DNA.”

“Doing research on DNA is their job, and it's not forbidden to want to prolong ones life even if it's foolish. It's only human. The only thing illegal is that they took my blood and what not without my permission. But they didn't even harm me for that, it's been my own fault I died.”

“Yeah, but they stalked you for days to get their chance.”

Jack shrugged. “Believe me, I've had way more creepy stalkers than them.”

“You sound as if you want to find excuses for everything Winterbreak Company does,” Jenny flared up, glaring accusingly at him.

“No, I don't,” Jack bristled. “But can you tell me exactly why you think they're doing something illegal? Why are you so obsessed with them?”

Back in the day, he would have jumped into an investigation at just the hint of anything dodgy going on, but he had suffered too many losses for the greater good. He owed humanity nothing. So, this time, he wouldn't once again dive head first into danger if he wasn't really sure that his intervention was necessary.

Jenny pouted, affronted. “You could just take my word for it. My gut's never been wrong. I simply know that for reaching his goal, Brummell won't shrink away from anything. It's not his goal I'm worried about, it's his methods. Admit it, it's always the same. In the end, innocent people will suffer for richer people's ambitions.”

Jack contemplated her words for a moment before he nodded eventually. “All right, I agree with you,” he said thoughtfully. “And I'm sorry if I'm being difficult. Me of all people should indeed be alarmed at all things immortality. Especially if people want to achieve it through me or if their way of gaining it causes others to get hurt.”

Once more, uncomfortable, painful memories of the Miracle surfaced. Hadn't he learned his lesson back then?

Jack frowned. When he thought back on what it had cost Torchwood to stop the Miracle, all the friends he lost, only because three families decided to play God out of greed for profit, Jack wanted to storm out of this hotel to confront this Mr. Brummell immediately. Yes, he didn't owe this planet anything, but that didn't mean he simply could turn his back as long as the chance of innocent people suffering remained. Hadn't he wanted to be better than that?

“So. What now? Do you have a plan?”

Jenny nodded. “Our work here's done. The main laboratories of Winterbreak Company are installed in London. We've got to go back there, and find a way inside.”

“To get to the bottom of this.” Jack nodded as well, contemplating her plan. “It won't be easy,” he thought aloud. “This facility's surely heavily guarded.”

“It is. But before I came here to find out about your role in all of this, I've chatted up one of the scientists there. He's no-one important, young, eager to impress.” She shrugged.

Jack grinned at her. “I like your methods.”

Jenny grimaced. “Not my type, thank you. Anyway. When we come to London, I'll ring him up, meet him for coffee. In the meantime, you have to break into his flat, and make a copy of his badge. Easy.”

It really sounded very easy, almost as if from a second-rate spy novel, but Jack knew from experience that reality wouldn't be as easy.

He told her that.

Jenny shrugged again. “Maybe not, but I've found myself in worse situations than these. I'm not afraid.”

“I can see that. But maybe you should be if what you say about Brummell's desperation to achieve his goal is true.”

Jenny closed her laptop with a snap, glaring at Jack determinedly. “Wherever there's injustice, I fight it.”

Jack couldn't help himself but chuckle at her dramatic words and determined, earnest face, so awfully young. “You read too much superhero comics as a kid, right?”

Affronted, she pressed her lips tightly together. “My father taught me that.”

Jack sobered a little. “Sorry. I imagine he's proud of you. Who is he?”

Jenny's lips pressed tighter together so that all that remained of her mouth was a thin line. “Someone who saves whole civilisations with his Companions.”

The last term set off all alarm bells in Jack. Suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, he stared at this woman with big eyes. It couldn't be, could it... “You... Your father's name doesn't happen to be the Doctor?”

Now it was Jenny's turn to stare at Jack incredulously. “You know him?”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “We're old friends,” he finally explained. “But I never knew he had a daughter.”

Jenny grimaced with a chuckle. “It's complicated. Maybe if we solve this whole mess, I'll tell you.”

Jack nodded wordlessly, still completely thrown.

“Come on.” Jenny stood up again. “Let's go.”

He couldn't help himself, the whole way to London, he stole furtive glances at her. Since she didn't want to let him drive, no matter how adamant he had been, at least now Jack had the time to ponder this incredible chance-meeting. No matter the story she owed him, he believed her. Scanning her secretly with his vortex manipulator had shown she had two hearts. If she wasn't the Master in disguise (whom Jack very well knew had survived somehow), then why would she be lying about her parentage. And although she didn't really look like any of the reincarnations Jack had met, she couldn't be none other than the Doctor's daughter. It was the same fierceness in her eyes, the need for adventure and to protect.

“Done analysing me?”

Jack startled violently, and met her laughing eyes. Caught, he smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. It's just... the chance of meeting you, here on Earth...”

“Yeah, I admit, it's a huge coincidence, but maybe that way, the universe wants to show us something.”

“That we're supposed to be a team in this. To stop Brummell?”

She grinned at him, the same manic grin that was so familiar to Jack. “Exactly.”

She turned her eyes onto the road before them again, keeping quiet for a few minutes. “I travel all around the universe and sometimes through time as well,” she explained. “When I left him, I did what my instincts told me to do, go where they lead me.” Jenny shrugged. “At first, I just wanted adventures, see the universe, but again and again, I encountered suffering. So, I helped as best as I could.”

“I'm sure he's very proud of you,” Jack repeated his earlier words, but now they held more weight for him since he knew who her father was.

“He would be, but he thinks I'm dead.”

Jack stared at her for a few long minutes. So long in fact, that the tough woman started to squirm under his inquisitive gaze.

“When this is over,” Jack began thoughtfully, “find him. Let him know you're alive.” He swallowed heavily. “He's known so much loss in his life. At least ease that particular loss for him.”

Jenny avoided his eyes, but nodded crisply. “Sounds as if you experienced much suffering yourself.”

“Immortal, remember.”

“Apart from that,” she clarified. “Why have you been in Cardiff?”

Jack accepted her diversion tactic, and answered truthfully. “I lived there for over one hundred years in the 20 th  and 21  st  century. Call it sentimentality. Or maybe masochism.”

“Must have changed a lot,” she mumbled.

“It has. In the 23rd century, global warming stroke with a vengeance. A tsunami flooded the coast of Wales. The place I had spent a hundred years at suddenly wasn't there any more.” Jack shrugged. “I still came back a few times, but surprisingly, seeing the Quay under water where our Torchwood Hub had been, where I lost so many friends, made it harder to be there than easier like I thought.”

“And now that global warming has taken a turn again, the ocean drew back, the Quay's dry once more.”

Jack nodded. She was correct, instead of flooding everything, global warming lately led to more and more drought periods, causing the oceans to retreat. “They rebuilt everything again, but it's hardly recognisable. Nonetheless, it's still hard to be there. I _know_ a lot of my friends died there.”

Jenny made a non-committal noise in her throat, sounding uncomfortable talking about so much loss.

“We're almost there,” she said instead, and once more, Jack accepted her changing the topic, not wanting to talk about his past any more either.

Making their way through London's morning Rush Hour, they finally reached a hotel not far from the Winterbreak main labs which, much to Jack's shock, were situated at Canary Wharf. Fate couldn't be more cruel to him, could it. Why did Torchwood have to haunt him so? And for the first time in many years, recalling the suffering that had taken place at One Canada Square, Jack had to think of a young man who had lived through Hell one fateful day in the past only a stone's throw away from their hotel. And who had died in this very city as well.

With more force than necessary, Jack placed his luggage onto the bed, desperately wishing that he and Jenny shared a room so that he wouldn't be alone right this moment where he viciously tried to suppress thinking about that one special man he had once loved and lost.

Eventually, after taking some deep breaths, Jack managed to shove every thought of Ianto Jones that had surfaced unbidden into a very closely guarded part of his heart.

When Jenny knocked on his door a few minutes later, he sighed in relief.

Time to get to work.

While, in the evening, Jenny went to her date with the hapless scientist, Jack took the Underground – now more a nostalgic tourist attraction than an efficient means of transportation since there were much faster trains by now – to the man's flat. Trying to avoid as much CCTV as he could, he reached the man's home, and let himself into the building with his vortex manipulator. Up until now, it was indeed incredibly easy. Letting himself into the man's flat was child's play as well, and only a few minutes later, he had found Lars Isle's badge. Using a device Jenny had given him, Jack copied the ID that would give them access to the facility.

When he later met Jenny at their hotel, she in turn came back with Isle's fingerprints, a sample of his voice as well as a retina sample, all in one go. Fondly, Jack had to think back on the ridiculous shamming he and Gwen Cooper had to do to get the same data from a man during the whole Miracle debacle. Thinking back on Gwen's horrible American accent she'd imitated at least made him laugh.

“We have to do it tonight,” Jenny told him. “I drugged him up to his eyeballs, he'll sleep right through tomorrow, so we can go to the laboratories in his stead.”

“All that effort,” he sighed, and indicated his wrist strap. “If your father wouldn't constantly disable my vortex manipulator, we could simply teleport in there.”

Jenny chuckled drily. “I'll pass on your complains. If we had more time, I would try to repair it, but I imagine you're trying a whole lot longer already?”

“Centuries. But without his blasted sonic screwdriver, I'll never manage.” Jack shrugged. “Well, no use grumbling, we'll do it the old-fashioned way.”

At that, Jenny had to snicker.

“What?” Jack laughed. “It's a classic spy-manoeuvre we're endeavouring. Done it myself lots of times.”

“I know, I know, it just sounded like a walk in the park when you say old-fashioned, so as if people are successfully pulling it off for centuries.”

“They are,” Jack shrugged. “The good as well as the bad guys.”

“I've not done this awfully often,” she explained. “I was raised to blunder in with weapons drawn.”

Jack goggled at that. “And you want to be your father's daughter?! Bursting in with a whole weapons arsenal is my thing, it's not supposed to be yours.”

Jenny grimaced at that. “Yeah, let's just say, my upbringing was a little unconventional. You'll understand when I tell you eventually.”

“Can't wait,” he mumbled. “Anyway. It won't be a walk in the park any more considering what we could possibly encounter there.”

“I know.” Jenny turned serious all of a sudden. “But remember, we have to take every proof that we can get our hands on if we want to uncover their machinations.”

“I'll keep it in mind.”

Shortly after midnight, Jack and Jenny made their way to Winterbreak Laboratories.

On the one hand, they didn't really care if the security systems recorded Lars Isle coming into the labs in the middle of the night since they planned to be far away again until anybody could begin to wonder. But lucky them, Lars had readily told Jenny that it wasn't very unusual that some employees returned at ungodly hours or even stayed the night when they sensed a breakthrough in their work or had an idea they wanted to follow up.

Getting into the building itself surprisingly turned out not to be a problem. Having forged badges for themselves, identifying them as part of the janitors' team that slowly began to trickle in, the awfully bored security guard waved them through. His lax attitude could be his last mistake in this job, but that wasn't their problem. So much for the building being heavily secured...

Expertly dodging more security guards patrolling the corridors, these ones armed and more alert, they stopped just around the corner of the hallway that led to one of the smaller laboratory complexes. If Jenny's information were correct, this inconspicuous lab was doing all the research for Brummell immortality-wise, all the funds Jenny had tracked down intended for this project had been funnelled into this department. The bigger main labs were reserved for the Company's official, more legal work.

With the help of another device that had been connected to Jack's vortex manipulator (the manipulator's advantage being that it was untraceable), they recorded a video loop of the empty corridor that was directly fed into the CCTV stream seamlessly. They had already done this with all the other corridors they had crossed as well.

Waiting a few more minutes after that, they dared venture into the corridor that led up to the heavily secured lab door.

With baited breath, Jenny first used Isle's copied badge, then his stolen fingerprint, his voice sample, and last, his retina scan.

Letting out the air in a relieved whoosh, they slipped through the doors after tampering with the CCTV in there as well. It was a slow, patient process all in all, and all the more dangerous since they could be discovered any minute. But apart from storming in guns blazing, it was their best option.

And so far, everything had gone according to plan after all.

The lights went on automatically when they entered the lab, illuminating what seemed to be some kind of antechamber. Several doors led into other rooms from there.

“Should we split up?” Jenny asked softly, but Jack shook his head.

“Let's check these rooms together. You know far better what we are looking for.”

“Okay.”

The first room they explored was something as boring as a supplies closet. The shelves in there were stocked with medical supplies, batches of chemicals – some incredibly hazardous – and the needed tools to handle them, technical spare parts, and least some cleaning supplies.

Not expecting to find anything incriminating in here, they took on the next room. This one was locked, therefore much more interesting to Jenny and Jack. With Isle's badge taking care of the lock, they gingerly pushed open the door, and mentally steeled themselves for what they may find inside.

When the motion sensors triggered the light, the first thing they saw was simply a barren room with concrete floor and concrete walls, no reason to lock it at all. But in the far corner, there lay a huge lump of... something.

Carefully creeping nearer, Jenny drew in a shocked breath, and made a gagging noise, but immediately, Jack put a reassuring hand on her arm. He nonetheless was shaking in shock.

“It's not human body parts,” he assured her. Only that it was, in a fashion.

“But...” Jenny breathed in sharply through her nose.

“It's Flesh,” Jack explained, having recognised the discarded mess for what it was.

“You mean the living Flesh? I heard about that.”

“Yes.” Jack breathed in deeply as well. “I'd say you have your first incriminating evidence against Brummell. Ever since the Flesh fought for their rights in the 22nd century – a process I believe your father set into motion –, the Gangers are regarded as sentient beings. Maybe not completely human, but nonetheless, what happened here is a grave crime.”

“They experimented on them,” Jenny realised, letting her shocked gaze wander over the half-melted and crumbled remains of the beings that were discarded like trash. “They probably thought that immortality was achievable through the Flesh.”

“Seems like it. But the way they're dumped in here, it didn't seem very successful.”

Nodding gravely, Jenny pulled out a small camera to take a lot of photos.

Then, they hurried out of the room as fast as they could. They just wanted to escape the horrifying image and the suffering it stood for.

Forcing their way into the next, even more heavily secured room, the two wished that they had stayed in the room with the Flesh.

It was as if being trapped in a morbid fairytale; each room the heroines and heroes stepped into held ready even more dangers and horrors.

Jack had seen a lot in his long life, had seen a lot of horrors people, especially humankind, did to each other – the most horrifying of it all probably the few months in 21 st  century Earth where nobody could die any more.

But what he saw now let him once again question his endeavours, if humankind was even worth the effort, but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to erase people like Brummell and his staff from existence for what they had done. Because, if the Flesh being treated like rubbish had been horrifying to see, then this...

Jenny gagged for real this time, and Jack had an incredibly hard time not to follow her example at the sight and the smell of decay and neglect infusing the whole room that even air conditioning couldn't cover up.

The walls and floor of this room were made of naked concrete like the last one, but in here, a few operating tables as well as some holding capsules that were normally used for cryo-freezing had been placed around the room. The beings that had been put here hadn't been piled up in the corner like trash, but nonetheless, they had been left here to die. If they hadn't been dead in the first place. They counted seven creatures that apparently should have been an attempt at a human being.

On leaden legs, Jack and Jenny ventured further into the room. Jack felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He stared down at the table closest to him. What had been dumped there looked nothing like a human. The limbs were horribly distorted, a face barely recognisable. At least, it was dead. The next had been placed in a cryo-capsule. This being looked more like a human; Jack could make out one arm and stinted legs, a men's genitals, and a face that looked as if it had melted on one side. On top of the glass casing of the capsule, a simple sheet of outdated paper had been tapped there. It read “J3” in a carelessly scrawled handwriting so as if the process hadn't even been worth the effort to label the dead beings properly. Looking around, he could make out more sheets of paper on the other cryo-capsules that read “J5” and “J6”.

“They're all the same,” he whispered in horrified realisation. “The numbers... Jenny. They're clones. These are the discarded failures!”

He looked over to the young woman who nodded absent-mindedly at his words, but couldn't turn her gaze from one of the men.

“He's still alive,” she whispered, choking on her words as she stared down onto the poor creature before them.

His blood running cold, Jack crossed the distance between them, and now stared down at the unfortunate being as well. The clone was as distorted as the others, but where they had been still in death, this one writhed weakly on the cold table he laid on. One wide blue eye stared up at them, clearly confused, afraid, and in pain.

His gut-instinct told Jack that this blue eye was somehow familiar, but it wasn't his own. At least these people weren't trying to clone him for their goals. But who was the poor sod they wanted to clone? What was so special about him that they thought he could be the key to immortality? Or was he just someone they had picked as a test object for their experiments before they dared to use them on Brummell?

His knees giving out under him, Jack sank down onto the table next to the trembling man. Without thinking, he pulled him into his arms protectively. He hissed in fury when he realised the man was freezing cold. Not surprising since he had been dumped naked into an air-conditioned room onto a cold metal table. At Jack's touch, the trembling eased somewhat, the man seemed to calm down a bit at the probably first caring touch of his short life.

Jack tried to wrap him into his arms completely, to give him warmth, comfort, and protection. A clawed, stiff, shaking hand reached up to grasp at Jack's shoulder.

“It's all right,” Jack mumbled, gently pressing a kiss against the man's temple. “I've got you. You're save.”

He sat there for some time, rocking his charge in his arms while Jenny stood by for a while before she had to turn away. Swallowing her tears, her rage, and her disgust, she took more photos.

“I'm sorry,” Jack murmured after the trembling of the other man had subsided, and he was completely calm in Jack's embrace. Carefully rearranging his hold, he grasped the man's head, and in one quick motion, broke his neck. The cracking of bones was sickly loud inside the room. Taking in shuddering breaths, Jack lowered the dead man back onto the metal table.

“Are the others dead?” he asked hoarsely.

Jenny managed a mumbled affirmative.

Taking in deep, deep breaths through his mouth, Jack stood on trembling legs, and, after finding his balance, marched from the room purposefully, a fire raging inside his eyes. He so badly wanted to burn this whole building to the ground, at least set fire to this room to give the clones some dignity, but he couldn't. Not until they knew what other atrocities Brummell's scientists hid.

They looked at each other when the heavy metal door snapped shut behind them, both equally as horrified and determined to end this once and for all.

Terrified of what they would find, they went into the next room. This one seemed to be the main lab of the department; a couple of laboratory benches had been placed there with lots of scientific equipment on it that was clearly in use. Jenny hurried over to a computer while Jack looked around.

A male voice startled him, and he spun around in alert, but then he relaxed again when he realised that the voice came from the computer.

“I found some kind of log,” Jenny explained.

Nodding, Jack turned away again to survey the rest of the lab, listening with one ear.

Apparently, Winterbreak's initial plan had been to somehow create beings whose DNA were thus manipulated that they lived forever which in turn could be administered to other peoples' DNA as well, like a serum. They had started pretty harmlessly with jellyfish DNA or that of turtles, both of which could become hundreds of years. But what he then heard was surely enough to bring Brummell and his entire company down. Not only had the scientists experimented with the Flesh, which on itself was a crime, but obviously for Project Ambrosias as they called it, they had tinkered with Cyber-technology in their attempts to immortalise their boss. No matter in which century, experimenting with Cyber-technology was beyond illegal.

A certain satisfaction ran through Jack in the knowledge that with what they had discovered, Brummell and his head scientists would probably be executed for endangering the universe. The Shadow-Proclamation was incredibly strict when someone thought they could benefit from Cyber-technology.

Venturing further into the lab, Jack discovered a sole cryo-capsule at the far end of the room. When he stepped nearer, convinced to find only another poor clone inside, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks when the voice on the audiotape said one word that made his blood run cold.

Torchwood.

Slowly, he turned back around, and met Jenny's gaze who stared at him with big eyes while the man in the log explained how they, after failure upon failure over the years, had stumbled over some information about an organisation called Torchwood that had been situated onto a Rift in space and time in Cardiff before it had been shut down in the early 21 st  century.

“Studying other Rifts throughout the universe, we noted that people who are exposed to Vortex radiation for a long time eventually are infused with it. Their DNA changed, but not to a degree that could be useful to us. But researching Torchwood, we realised that, working so close to the Rift, being exposed to it and the things it spat out, a Torchwood agent's DNA could be exactly what we needed as a stabiliser for our whole project.”

Jack shook his head in denial, but he didn't move otherwise, listening with bated breath anxiously for the big revelation that would surely come.

“According to our information, the Torchwood base was destroyed in an explosion in 2009. Only three agents survived the explosion before the Rift closed under mysterious circumstances only a few months later. The survivors were Gwen Cooper, Captain Jack Harkness, and Ianto Jones. Captain Harkness is a matter on its own, and we are looking for him all over the galaxy, but until we find him, we will try to get a hold of the other two's remains.”

The audiofile crackled for a second before a new one started. In the meanwhile, Jack slowly turned around again. He felt as if being ensconced by cotton wool as his leaden legs carried him over toward the cryo-capsule. Somehow, deep in his heart, he now knew whom he would find in there.

“We couldn't discover Gwen Cooper's remains. The cemetery she was buried in was destroyed as Cardiff sank into the sea. That left Ianto Jones who was buried in Newport, not Cardiff, even before the Rift closed in 2010. We managed to find his remains, and take sufficient samples on site although the remains were in a bad state after all this time. Trying to copy him and his DNA to use as a template for the Flesh failed since satisfying results can only be gained from a live person who still has to operate it telepathically even though the technology evolved over the centuries. That left cloning the only promising way.”

The log file changed once again, and now, Jack stood before the cryo-capsule, his shocked eyes fixed onto the utterly still, but utterly perfect man lying inside.

“To Jones' unique DNA, we added jellyfish DNA, but the first attempts were disappointing. Only recently, we have discovered the whereabouts of Jack Harkness. As soon as we can attain a DNA sample, we will combine it with Jones' DNA, and grow a new clone. It looks promising so far...”

The rest Jack blocked out. He had heard enough. All the while, he never grew tired of looking at Ianto Jones lying before him, whole and alive. Happiness suddenly burned through him, bright as a super-nova, when he realised that here before him lay a second chance with a man he had once loved, and, if he had to be truthful, still loved and missed fiercely when he was in the unfortunate situation to think of him – but that was his dilemma, wasn't it. Despite his promise to the dying man which he wanted to honour, it was too painful thinking of Ianto. At first, he had only tried to think about the good times they had together, not about the haunting moments of Ianto's death. But thinking about these few happy, stolen moments was even more devastating. Instead of making him wistfully happy, the longing and regret almost broke him. So, he tried to stop thinking of him overly much if he could avoid it, but no matter what he tried, as if his promise to Ianto demanded its right, the young man was always a fixed point in his subconsciousness, felt especially vivid in form of the gaping black whole that made up a good portion of Jack's heart. Most of the time, Jack managed to viciously suppress these thoughts, but they were always there nonetheless, lurking beneath the surface waiting to be triggered by something. So, to see him now here before him...

But as soon and bright as his joy had flared, as soon it crumbled to ash. This man here wasn't Ianto. Not the real one. He was just a clone. Absent-mindedly, Jack caressed the cold glass of the cryo-capsule and the digital display that, next to monitoring all the vital functions, said “J8”.

Jones 8.

Jack froze again. Bile once more rose in his throat, and this time, he had to stumble away to throw up in a corner. Because in that moment, his heart realised what his brain had already gathered from the information from the logs, what it really meant; that not only was the pile of Flesh failed attempts of copying not a random test subject but_ Ianto_, but that the horribly distorted, broken, and discarded creatures, the one he had held in his arms and whom he had released from his suffering, had been clones of Ianto Jones. Seven times, Ianto had to suffer horribly, and had to die a horrible death, his memory defiled by these men's actions. Another horrible death the young man had had to endure flashed before his eyes, and feeling how it had felt to hold a dying Ianto in his arms hundreds of years in the past merged with how it had felt to hold the poor creature in his arms only a few minutes ago, until the only thing he could see were blurry images of the man he loved suffering over and over.

He stumbled over again, having to support himself on the table the cryo-capsule stood on, and he had to gulp in deep breaths to force down his panic attack.

He jumped violently when a comforting hand was placed onto his shoulder. Looking up, Jenny stood next to him with a compassionate, worried look on her young face.

She frowned in sympathy. “You knew him. Didn't you.”

Giving a shaky nod, Jack once more looked down onto Ianto's sleeping form. “He was my...” But he couldn't finish the sentence. Jenny seemed to know what he meant nevertheless. A determined look suddenly flashed over her features.

“They must have cloned him only recently after they acquired your DNA.” She nodded her head over towards the computer terminal. “Obviously, they used technology that was based on the one that created me on Messaline to grow him faster.” She looked down onto the man in the cryo-capsule. “Not exactly legal either these days. He can only be a few hours old.”

Jack nodded, not really understanding what she meant with “the technology that created me”, but he got the gist of what she was trying to tell him otherwise. He couldn't answer her though.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened. “Let's get him out of here, Jack.”

Once more, he looked into her determined face, and suddenly, he felt the same burning determination, his shocked paralysis dropping from him like a discarded cloak. No matter if this man was the real Ianto Jones or a clone, they had to save him.

Straightening, taking in a deep breath of cool air, he gave a curd nod. Together, they set about to start the thawing-process, a process that, in this century, was accomplished in only a few minutes instead of the hours it would have taken in the 21 st  century.

He hoped there were no complications since it was still a shock to the system, no matter how advanced the technology had become.

Waiting anxious, long minutes, finally, a green light flashed on the capsule's controls, and the glass covering opened a crack with a hiss of icy air. With Jenny's help, they lifted it away, and put it to the side. In that moment, Ianto's eyes flew open, and he sucked in a gasping breath. He began to trash around in a panic, but Jack was at his side in an instant. He grasped the flailing man's arms, and then pulled the tightly closed fists against his own chest.

“Ianto!” he called, trying to catch Ianto's gaze.

Hearing Jack's voice, Ianto's wildly searching eyes found his. They widened. “Jack?!” he gasped, confused, terrified, but clearly hopeful.

Involuntarily, Jack reared back at hearing the painfully familiar voice, and stared at the man in shock, letting go of his hands as if he suddenly couldn't stand to touch the living, breathing proof of tonight's horrors.

For a few moments, they stared at each other as if frozen in time.

“Quick!” Jenny suddenly urged, and pushed Jack back towards the cryo-capsule.

Overcoming his initial shock with a deep, shuddering breath, Jack grabbed Ianto's shoulders.

“We have to get out of here.”

“Where are we?” Ianto looked around in confusion.

“No time for any explanations,” Jack urged, and helped the young man to clamber from the cryo-capsule. Then, they faced their next problem. Ianto was completely naked. They hadn't counted on taking a person out of here with them. So how...

He startled when Jenny suddenly shoved a bundle of clothes into his line of sight. “Put this on. It will do to get us out of here.”

Ianto stared at the strange young woman, then at the clothes she held out that included a janitor's spare work coat, much like the ones they wore, and finally, his big eyes landed on Jack. He frowned unhappily. “Jack, why am I naked?!”

He crossed his arms before his chest, and glared at Jack accusingly, so thrown that he didn't even spare any thought on being embarrassed. The man looked so much like his Ianto in that moment that it sent a painful stab through Jack's heart as he reminded himself that it was just a clone with Ianto's memories.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “We've got more important things to worry about. Now put on the damn clothes.”

Ianto gaped at her for a moment like a fish out of water, clearly inhaling for a sarcastic retort. But then, he simply nodded, and did what she told him.

While Jenny hurried back over to the computer console to copy all of the incriminating files she needed, Jack watched Ianto, feeling once more as if his heart was gripped in a vice. The man looked so young in the faded trousers, shirt, and scuffed trainers that were a little too big for him; not at all like the smart, sharp young man in a suit.

Jack remembered the suits now. He had forgotten over the years. Ianto surely must hate looking like this.

As if feeling Jack's intense gaze onto his person, Ianto looked up, mistaking the expression on Jack's face completely. He grimaced. “I know. I look horrible.”

Jack had to swallow hard. “You look perfect,” was at the tip of his tongue, but he held himself back. Instead, he told him, “We'll find something else for you.”

“Surely, I have a spare suit at the Hub.”

Breathing in sharply through his nose, Jack was saved by Jenny from correcting Ianto. She skidded over to them, clasping the two men's shoulders. “I set the timer. We got five minutes.”

Jack blinked at her as if waking from a dream. “Timer? Jenny?!”

“We'll destroy ev'ry ounce of evidence they have of him.” She nodded discreetly at Ianto. “Think about it, Jack. If the public and the government learn about what happens here, Mr. Jones is in grave danger. He could end up in the next science lab, this time run by the government. And you as well.”

“Hadn't thought about that,” Jack mumbled. Of course he hadn't. He was still in some kind of shock. At least Jenny, who wasn't emotionally compromised by this mission, had kept a clear head, and thought ahead of what to do.

Hurriedly, they made their way out of the lab. Jack was glad Ianto didn't ask any questions when they passed the scientific equipment or the secured doors in the ante-chamber.

Back in the corridor that led to the lab, Jenny set fire to a stack of papers she had taken with her, and threw them behind them into the corridor.

“Quick now!” she said, and urged the two men forwards.

Only a few seconds later, the fire alarm blared through the building, the smell of smoke catching up to them quickly.

A couple of hallways further, they encountered a few members of the cleaning team who were hastily making their way out of the building. The three tried to look as wide-eyed and scared as them. When they reached the lobby, they could blend in with the throng of people making their way towards the exit. The number of people in the building at this time of night, not only cleaning personnel and security guards, was surprisingly high. The better for them though.

While the people actually working in the building crowded together in front of it, waiting for the fire brigade, and eagerly gossiping what could have happened, Jack, Jenny, and Ianto unobtrusively slipped away into the dark.

A sudden tremor shook the ground beneath their feet, and the muffled boom of an explosion could be heard. People screamed, deciding that now, they were a little too close to the building for comfort. Looking over his shoulder briefly, Jack saw them scatter away. Then, he chanced a look at Jenny, impressed and grateful. He still marvelled at the fact that she had brought explosives with her. But on the other hand, maybe it wasn't that surprising. Not considering what had been the purpose of her creation if he interpreted the sparse information she had given him here and there correctly.

“Maybe they'll think Ianto died in the fire,” she muttered so low that only Jack could hear her. He nodded. She was right. Maybe they were lucky, and Winterbreak Company would dismiss the explosion as a tragic result of the fire. But since all of their hard-earned research had been destroyed, they probably wouldn't rest until they had solved the incident. But at least, they could hope that it would take the company some time; enough time to let the three of them escape, maybe for good.

Their hotel was only a few blocks away when suddenly, Ianto stumbled to a halt. Alarmed, Jack spun around to face Ianto. The young man stood on the pavement as if frozen.

Cautiously, Jack bridged the distance between them.

“Jack?” Ianto's bottom lip trembled, his wide eyes staring into the distance before they found Jack's.

The Captain made an encouraging noise. He saw Ianto swallow heavily. “I... I died.” Involuntarily, as if he was suddenly cold, he wrapped his arms around his upper body protectively, and once more stared into the distance. “I died in Thames House.”

He startled when Jack placed a comforting hand onto his shoulder. The two men's eyes found each other again.

“What's happening here?” he whispered.

Jack reached up with his other hand to grasp the younger man's other shoulder. He squeezed empathically. “Do you thrust me?”

The haunted, helpless expression vanished from Ianto's eyes. He nodded mutely, and his expression was full of trust into Jack that humbled the immortal.

“Then let's go back to the hotel. I'll explain as soon as I can, but first, we'll have to take you to safety.”

Squeezing the tightly drawn shoulders once more for emphasis, Jack let his hand slide into the small of Ianto's back to steer him forward.

After only a few minutes of hurrying through night time London, the three reached the hotel. All of them could breath easily again when the door to Jack's room clicked safely shut behind them.

Without losing any time, Ianto whirled around to face Jack, his mien fierce and determined. “What is going on here, Jack?”

He stemmed his hands into his hips while glaring at Jack expectantly. The gesture was so familiar that it almost made Jack sick.

He must have given his distress away because Ianto's expression softened, and he advanced towards Jack.

The older man flinched away from the hand that reached out towards him in worry though, and he had to avert his gaze at the hurt he glimpsed in Ianto's eyes at the sudden, unexpected rejection.

Visibly drawing back behind his usual mask of detached professionalism, Ianto stepped back, and stared at Jack expectantly. Jack clearly saw that Ianto was dying to know what was going on, but that he clearly wouldn't resort to begging to get any information out of Jack. He never had. And especially not when Jack clearly had his issues with his person at the moment – even if he didn't know what exactly was amiss.

Raking his fingers through his hair nervously, Jack sighed. “Ianto...” He grimaced, and immediately regretted calling the other being that.

“Why are you behaving... like that?” Ianto interrupted him before he could stammer out any half-assed explanation. Ianto grimaced. “Is it because of something I did? I remember Thames House, but after... Jack.” He looked him firmly in the eye. “What happened in Thames House? Did I really die? And how can I be here now, then? What did you do?”

“I didn't do anything!” Jack exploded, all the bottled-up emotions that were torturing him since he had realised whom Winterbreak Company used to make their boss immortal breaking out of him now. “Ianto Jones did die in Thames House. Five hundred years ago.” He saw Ianto blanch, no, the clone, but he soldiered on mercilessly. “_You_ are not Ianto Jones. You are a clone that some scientists created for their boss's goals.”

He had to avert his eyes since he couldn't stomach the utterly crushed expression that flitted over Ianto's face. He felt ashamed of himself to have even told him, but it was the truth. He wasn't Ianto Jones. And he would never be.

“It can't be,” Ianto said into the oppressive silence. His voice sounded convinced and firm, only the barest tremor could be detected. With wide eyes being fixed onto Jack pleadingly, he once more advanced on to the older man. Beseechingly, he grasped the front of Jack's shirt, and this time, the Captain allowed the touch. “Jack, please! It's not true, is it?! It cannot be true.”

Involuntarily, Jack reached up to enclose Ianto's fists with his own, but he averted his eyes as if he personally could be held guilty for the truth about Ianto.

Ianto shook him once, begging him to take it back with his eyes, but Jack wouldn't look at him. “But I... I remember... everything. I remember my whole _life_! How can I not be Ianto Jones when there's a whole life in my head?!”

“Genetic memory,” Jenny suddenly threw in softly. Until now, she had silently stood at the window, watching night time London without interfering with the two men's emotional confrontation. Ianto stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and even Jack looked startled, so as if he had forgotten her presence entirely. Gingerly, she advanced on them, never breaking eye contact to Ianto.

“I'm Jenny, by the way. I asked Jack to help me uncover this company's machinations. We didn't know what they had planned, and we surely didn't know that we would find you there.”

Jack breathed a little easier again now that Jenny took over. Gently, she explained what they had uncovered tonight, sugarcoating or omitting what exactly had been done to clone Ianto Jones. Learning of the horrors they had found in the labs would be too much for the young man right now, and wouldn't help anyone at the moment anyway if he knew.

Nonetheless, Ianto was shocked. Powerless, he slumped onto the bed, and stared ahead unseeing with wide eyes. He flinched when Jenny placed a comforting hand on to his shoulder, but he didn't say anything.

“We should get out of London,” she said calmly, addressing Jack. “Maybe we don't have long until they discover that Ianto isn't dead. They will surely check all the CCTV around the building, and spot us.”

Jack nodded. “We have to be as far away from them as possible when they do.”

“Where can we go?”

Jack thought about this for a moment. Then, an idea made itself known. It wouldn't only help them with their situation, but it would make Ianto feel a little more comfortable and not so much out of place as he was clearly feeling right now. “We will go to Glasgow. We can hide in the old Torchwood Two building.”

At that, Ianto perked up. “But... Archie gave it up shortly after Tosh and Owen's deaths.”

“He did. But we made a few arrangements nobody knew about.”

Ianto bit his lip, trying not to let it get to him that this was one more secret Jack had kept from him.

“The house is mine, and although at first sight, it is uninhabited, Archie had some hidden vaults in the basement. Some alien equipment is still stored there that can maybe help us.”

“Help us with what?” Jenny frowned.

Jack shrugged. “Help defend us.”

The young woman nodded. “All right. Then let's go.”

They packed their things swiftly, and a short while later, they smuggled Ianto down into the underground garage of the hotel. To not take any chances, Jack disabled every single surveillance camera they came upon on their way with his vortex manipulator, and they made sure that nobody saw Ianto until they were inside the car.

As unobtrusively as they could, they made their way out of the city.

At one point, not far from London, Ianto succumbed to sleep. While he lay on the rear bench seat, Jack couldn't help himself but turn around to watch him every now and then. He looked so peaceful. So young. So alive. It broke Jack's heart, and even more so when he recalled that this man wasn't really Ianto Jones. But oh, the illusion was so, so tempting. He dearly wished to lose himself in it, but he couldn't. Giving in now would sully the real Ianto's memory, and it would destroy Jack sooner or later.

Jenny noticed his backward glances of course, but she didn't say anything for now although he could sense that she was dying to in the way her lips were pressed together firmly, and her fingers gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. He was grateful that she held back with whatever she had to say for the moment. He hadn't the nerve, and it gave him some time to think. Or rather, time to wallow in his misery.

He wanted nothing more than to wake up from this alluring nightmare...

Even with stopping once on the way to get something to eat, Jenny managed the four-hundred miles in under six hours. Jack was strangely proud of her, so as if she had learned from him.

Being back in Glasgow awakened old, buried memories of the few times Jack had been here, the most vivid but also most cruel the happy few days he had spend here after he had send Ianto to Glasgow to help Archie sort out his Archives. At that time, Jack's moping about Ianto's absence had prompted the rest of his irritated team to buy him a train ticket, and send him up here to keep Ianto from working for a few days instead of them. Even though Ianto had a lot to do, the hours they managed to steal for themselves were the happiest he had experienced for a long time...

And now, Jack was back. Looking at Ianto, the young man remembered these days as well when the happy gleam that lit up his eyes every time he recognised a building was anything to go by. After all, for Ianto, or rather, for the genetic memory that let this being remember things from Ianto Jones' life, it hadn't been that long ago. Only a few months. The subtle but clearly visible changes in the city therefore must be all the more shocking. Granted, Glasgow hadn't changed that much in a few hundred years. Back then, people had always thought that in the future, everything would look sleek and white with strange gadgets that nobody living in the 20 th  and 21  st  century could imagine would ever exist. That old buildings would have to make room for futuristic looking houses as if overnight, the old world would be abandoned for future's sake. But it wasn't like that. Sure, there were tons of new technologies and innovations, but although skyscrapers were built higher and higher with every turn of the century, a lot of the historical buildings were still the same. Nowadays, instead of advertisement boards there were holographic screens, and the means of transportation looked much more space-y for lack of a better word, but it wasn't all flying cars and household robots doing your work either.

But thanks to that, Ianto didn't look all that overwhelmed like he would probably have being thrown into a futuristic city of glass and technology that had nothing in common any more with the world he'd known. That or he hid what he was really feeling. Jack remembered that Ianto had been a master of hiding his true feelings behind a mask of professionalism and dry wit.

Jack cringed. He really should stop calling him Ianto, but he couldn't help himself.

Not wanting to think about that any longer, he led the other two up the stairs leading to the former Torchwood Two's front door. After deactivating the alarms that were programmed on to his voice as well as his fingerprint and retina scan, he ushered his guests inside.

“There are two bedrooms upstairs,” he explained. “Bathroom as well. Kitchen and living room are down here, the office is in the cellar.”

Jenny nodded, and grasped Jack's rucksack he had placed next to the door to take their luggage upstairs.

“I remember,” Ianto said quietly, but made no move to go upstairs as well. Instead, he went into the kitchen.

Standing in the hallway for a moment, completely lost, Jack eventually gave in to the urge to follow Ianto.

Now he stood lost in the middle of the dusty kitchen instead, not wanting to look Ianto in the eye, while the other man avoided looking at him at all.

“Should I get rid of the car?” Jenny asked, coming into the kitchen, and fortunately breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I think I saw a rental company a few blocks away where I can drop it off.”

Jack nodded. “Good idea.” He rummaged in one of his pockets for his wallet, and pulled out a card. “Here. Buy a new car. We may need one after all.”

Jenny hesitated in taking the credit card.

“It's issued to another name,” he assured her, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I'm not a rookie. They won't be able to trace it back towards us.” Only after his reassurance did she take the card, rolling her eyes in good humour as well.

With a curd nod, she left, leaving Jack alone with Ianto.

The silence between them was stifling and awkward, and Jack tried to make himself useful by looking through the cupboards in the kitchen. Maybe there was some canned food left or other things that could be useful to them.

“Where's your coat?” Ianto asked softly after a few minutes.

Jack paused with his inspection, and turned towards the young man sitting at the kitchen table, looking incredibly lost. He wanted to go over to him, and take him into his arms for comfort, but he couldn't.

Instead, he shrugged.

“It's been time for a new look,” he said slightly dismissively. “I had it locked away for safekeeping a long time ago.”

Ianto nodded mutely, but looked at Jack with distressed eyes, so as if Jack had bereft him of something so familiar in this unfamiliar world on purpose.

With more force than necessary that it made both of them flinch, Jack banged shut the cupboard he had been hounding for canned food. “I'll go pick up some food. Maybe some new clothes for you.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said, but he neither sounded overly enthusiastic nor even interested.

Grunting and nodding once, Jack left the kitchen, and as fast as he could, left the house. He needed some air, and especially, he needed space and time to think.

Only when he had crossed the street did he realise that he had left Ianto completely alone. But he didn't turn around.

The first thing Jack noticed upon his return was the smell of citrus and detergent. Ianto seemed to have found some cleaning products. The kitchen was spotless as Jack went in there to place his groceries onto the table. Living room and the bedrooms as well. He found Ianto scrubbing the bathroom furiously.

For a few minutes, Jack observed the almost manic cleaning the other man did before he made himself known.

“I brought food,” he explained, and Ianto flinched in surprise.

He looked up, and threw the cleaning rag back into the bucket he had found somewhere, his hands already looking a bit red from the aggressive cleaning products. Breathing a little heavily, he nodded, and brushed the back of his hand over his slightly sweaty forehead.

“I'll... I'll go make some dinner.”

Awkwardly, Jack left him to his cleaning to go take his mind off things as well by cooking. Over the years, he had become quite versed, and he remembered cooking for Ianto a few times...

Not good going there.

Swearing softly under his breath, Jack tried to shove these thoughts as far away in his mind as he possibly could, and jerkily unpacked the food he had purchased, stoically ignoring the other bag he had brought.

Jenny came back just on time for dinner, bringing a new car that was licensed for a Mr. Joshua Snow. It was a good model, sturdy and fast if need be, even if it wasn't new. But a new car would have had to be officially registered, and the car salesman she'd found hadn't asked any questions when Jenny had paid with the credit card of her “husband”, had not even wanted to look at her credentials.

“Do you really think we have to run?” Ianto asked softly, placing down his fork because the prospect of being on the run again – for him, it had only been a couple of days since he'd had to hide from killers the government had sent – spoilt his appetite.

Jack noticed of course, but didn't press the other man to eat more, not wanting to appear too clucky. Instead, he sighed, and put away his own cutlery for the moment. “I hope not. But we have to be prepared. According to the news, they're busy sorting out the mess the explosion caused, fire services won't let anyone inside until they clear the building, but sooner or later, they will discover that your body isn't there.”

“Who knows which resources the company really has to find us,” Jenny chimed in gravely.

Ianto nodded mutely, staring at his dinner despondently.

“We can leave the planet if we have to,” Jack suggested. “Winterbreak may be a powerful company here on Earth, maybe even in this solar system, but their influence doesn't reach as far as the other end of even this Galaxy.”

At this prospect, Ianto's head snapped up again to stare at Jack in shock. But he brought his features under control quickly, schooling his face into an impassive mask. Because at that moment, he remembered that this wasn't his Earth anyway. He was a stranger here, travelling through space couldn't be as strange or painful as living here where he was only reminded of a life he'd lost, had never led in fact.

Nonetheless still shaken on the inside, he rose from the table. “I'll make some coffee,” he mumbled, and headed for the coffee maker that stood in a corner of the kitchen.

His face may not show how he felt, but he couldn't do anything about his trembling fingers that almost made him spill the coffee beans Jack had bought as he put them into the integrated grinder of the machine.

“Do you need help?” Jack suddenly asked softly behind him, and Ianto jumped.

“No.” With more force than necessary, he placed the package of beans aside to clumsily press some buttons. He grimaced, and a quick look from the corner of his eye told him that Jack's face looked the same. “It's this stupid futuristic machine,” he snapped, placing his shaking hands on the counter before the coffee maker. “I'm not used to it yet.”

Jack laughed a soft, strained laugh. “Actually, it's an incredibly outdated model.”

“Fitting for me then,” Ianto muttered.

Jack winced at that, but he didn't leave the other man alone. He stood beside him for a few moments, undecided.

“Come with me,” he eventually murmured. “I have something for you.”

Reluctant, but nonetheless curious, Ianto followed Jack upstairs into one of the bedrooms. The immortal indicated a bag that he had placed onto the bed.

Suddenly nervous, Ianto advanced, and started unpacking. Inside the bag he found some essentials like underwear, socks, and a couple of T-shirts, and he blushed involuntarily at the prospect of Jack buying him underwear – it had always been the other way round, and he had been fine with it. But underneath that, he found three packages wrapped in soft paper.

“Jack,” he gasped when he discovered three suits complete with waistcoat and tie wrapped inside the paper and two pairs of shoes on the bottom of the bag. “You shouldn't have,” he mumbled, and he couldn't look at Jack.

Jack shrugged which Ianto couldn't see. The Captain in turn couldn't take his eyes from Ianto as his fingers caressed the soft wool and silk in his hands. He didn't know what he was supposed to answer because once again, he cursed himself, and felt like a masochist to buy a suit – Ianto's signature feature – for the clone. Surely, the creature would only feel encouraged that way to see himself as the real Ianto Jones. He'd already chided himself as he had bought the clothes, but at that time, the thought of getting to see Ianto once again as he had been, suit and all, had been overpowering, making him weak. So, he had yielded. Now, he regretted it, but not completely because the quiet happiness Ianto exuded didn't allow for his negative feelings to take over completely.

“I thought you'd feel more comfortable,” he tried to explain.

Ianto nodded automatically. “Thank you.”

“Okay... then... good night.”

And with that, Jack had suddenly fled the room.

Ianto stared after him, confused and hurt.

Jack was awake already when Ianto came downstairs the next morning. The Captain had started with breakfast preparations, but had left the coffee making for Ianto.

“Good morning,” the young man mumbled softly, and Jack looked up.

His breath caught, and for a moment, he forgot that they were in the 26 th  century and that this was a clone standing before him. Because for one glorious, joyful moment, he thought that Ianto Jones was standing before him, looking perfect even just out of bed.

But something wasn't right. The tie matching the shirt hung around Ianto's neck, untied, and the young man looked awfully shy and hesitant.

Cursing himself as reality crashed down on him, Jack automatically advanced on the young man. “Here, let me.”

Trying to harden his heart, Jack swiftly tied the tie for Ianto, surprised that he hadn't actually forgotten how.

Ianto let him, stoically, and they both tried to ignore the elephant in the room. Jack had noticed already yesterday; certain little tells that betrayed what the man before him really was. There had been moments when Ianto hadn't known what to do. No. His _mind_ had known what to do, but his body hadn't. Hence the clumsiness while attempting to make coffee; it was the first time ever this body operated a coffee machine, even if the memories how to do it were there. And apparently, the same could be said for tying a tie.

And Ianto had to realise this, too. At least by now, he must be able to tell what was going on. Now, with the tie, he couldn't blame the unfamiliar coffee maker any more. Not when it was about a motion he could do in his sleep.

“I...” Ianto stammered to break the awful, awkward silence. “I'd never imagined to find these in this century.”

Jack, grateful for the attempt to fight off the awkwardness, shrugged while concentrating on getting the knot perfect. “It's a classic. There's no stopping a classic.”

“Seems so, yeah.”

The clearing of a throat startled both men, and almost guiltily, Jack practically jumped away from Ianto.

“Breakfast's almost ready,” he announced with a much too bright smile.

Jenny returned the smile with a painful little wince, but fortunately didn't comment on the scene she had stumbled upon.

With Jenny as a buffer, breakfast wasn't as strained as they had feared, the young woman's constant monologue about their plans for today saving the situation.

When they were finished, Ianto fled into the familiar, comforting task of cleaning up the table while Jack and Jenny ventured down into Archie's former office, and after, dared make their way down into the underground vaults that once had been a part of the old sewer system. When Torchwood Two had been installed here, a vast part of the Victorian sewer tunnels under the house had been sealed off, and turned into Torchwood's Archives, much like had been done with the Cardiff Hub.

“You think we'll find some weapons down here?” Jenny whispered, and immediately felt stupid because she tried to be quiet.

Jack gave her a knowing, determined look. “You bet there are weapons down there. I stored them there myself.”

Nodding grimly, Jenny followed him through the individual rooms. Some housed medical equipment, some a lot of science stuff, alien artefacts – a few harmless, but mostly dangerous since Jack had wanted to know them safe from falling into the wrong hands –, and weapons, all secured by heavy fire doors that could only be opened by a numeric code.

“I hope you have the code jotted down somewhere,” she joked sarcastically as she watched him type in the code into one of the control panels.

Jack grunted, amused. “My memory's not that holey.”

“Your birthday?” she asked since this was the only numerical sequence she could think of that would make sense for someone like Jack. The birthdays of loved ones on the other hand... Well, there must have been a lot of them in his long life...

“I can't remember my birthday.” He lowered his hand, and, placing his hand on the door handle, looked at her over his shoulder. “09212009. Memorise it.”

Jenny frowned as she tried to make sense of the number. “September 21 st  2009? What happened then?”

Jack's hand gripped the door handle so tight his knuckles turned white, and he stared down, unseeing. “It was the day Ianto died. I could never forget that day.”

Swallowing heavily, Jenny didn't press him for more information, instead, she put a hesitant, comforting hand on to his shoulder.

Smiling an empty smile, Jack finally pushed open the door, and led her inside the weapon's storage.

“Don't tell him,” he asked softly.

“I won't.”

“Do you have some lab equipment down here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I want to run some tests on Ianto, find out what dodgy things they stuffed into his DNA.”

Jack grimaced. “I'd rather not.”

Immediately seeing Jack's protest for what it was, Jenny frowned at him reprovingly. “Well, tough. We have to know what we may be dealing with.” She stepped up to Jack, and shifted the weapons in her arms until she had one hand free to place it on to Jack's shoulder. “_You_ have to deal with it, Jack.”

The immortal grimaced again. “I... He is...”

“This is not the time nor the place for this conversation, even if it's long overdue. But Jack. Why won't you see that he may be your second chance?”

“Because he is...” Wrong. It was on the tip of Jack's tongue, but he couldn't say it. He wouldn't stoop down to the Doctor's level, and even think of the man upstairs like that although he felt _exactly_ like that about him since the moment he had looked through the glass of the cryo-capsule. And then, it wasn't what he felt at all. He was so happy that Ianto had returned to him. But that was only during short moments when the illusion was too perfect. Only a second later, it was shattered again, and he saw Ianto for what he really was. A clone, a copy. Not the real thing. This was even worse than taking a changeling or android that looked like Ianto to his bed because he yearned so desperately for the other man. When the harsh truth would eventually be revealed over and over again, it would be much, much worse for Jack than not having Ianto back at all.

This conflict was killing him. And it wasn't fair to Ianto. He saw how confused the other man was to get such mixed signals from Jack; treating him like Ianto Jones one minute, caring, loving, and familiar, but then ignoring him in the next as if he were merely a stranger.

He flinched, and almost dropped the weapons he was carrying when Jenny placed her hand from his shoulder to his cheek. Lost, he looked at the petite woman with wide eyes, silently begging her to help him solve this mess.

“We will,” she promised, as if she had read his thoughts. “We will get through this, and then we'll sort you two out.”

Nodding, Jack swallowed heavily, and followed Jenny upstairs again to drop off the weapons on the kitchen and living room tables.

“I don't like this,” Ianto complained grouchily, and Jack had to suppress an involuntary smile that caused him to hastily lean down over the weapon he was cleaning before Ianto saw the twitching of his lips.

Jenny huffed in irritation, but ignored the man's protests. Mercilessly, she plucked a needle into Ianto's arm to draw even more blood that she could analyse in the really well-stocked lab she had found downstairs.

When she had finished taking samples from Ianto, she let the machines do their work, and instead sat down to bring up a plan to defeat Winterbreak Company and Brummell without uncovering and thus endangering Ianto's existence.

“May I help?”

She looked up into Ianto's eager face, and she nodded with a smile.

Relieved to have something to do (cleaning the house from top to bottom again and again got old at some point, even for him), he sat down next to her. “I'm really good fabricating stories, and manipulating facts,” he nervously assured her of his abilities.

“I'm sure you are. Thanks for your help.”

Suddenly, Jack couldn't stand being in the same room with Ianto, witnessing the young man masterfully exerting his skills like he had done countless times in a long gone past.

He stood abruptly, and placed the weapon in his hand back onto the living room table with more force than he intended or was probably wise.

“I'll go back downstairs,” he stiffly announced. “Maybe I can find some more useful gadgets I don't even remember having down there.”

He felt Jenny and Ianto's confused, knowing, and probably in Ianto's case, hurt glances in his back like ugly, living things.

He hurried down the steps even faster, the shame he felt propelling him on.

Jack had completely lost time down in the Archives; it could very well be that it was past dinner time already, and he hadn't even noticed.

He hadn't found much; most of his alibi-time down here was spend thinking things through and through again without coming to any result.

“Jack?”

Ianto's soft, hesitant voice startled him violently, even if he wouldn't admit it. He glanced up from the device he held in his hand (he didn't even know what it was, only, that he probably held fast to it like a lifeline for hours now) to see the young man standing a few feet away from him. The delicious smell of coffee hit his nostrils even before Jack spotted the steaming mug Ianto held in his hands protectively.

“I got the hang of it now,” he said, attempting a light smile.

Jack nodded mutely, and accepted the mug from Ianto. He breathed in deeply for a moment before he took a sip. Old memories awoke with a vengeance, and he sighed softly as the familiar brew hit his taste buds.

Uncharacteristically anxious, Ianto stood next to him, short of wringing his hands while he watched Jack carefully, hoping for a positive reaction.

All of a sudden, with memory upon memory assaulting him, the coffee in his mouth tasted awfully bitter, and Jack put down the mug. New anger fuelled by desperation flared up inside of him.

“Stop that,” he snapped harsher than intended.

“Excuse me?” Ianto blinked at him, taken aback, but nonetheless with an affronted, put-out gleam in his eyes that practically screamed danger for Jack.

Taking in a deep breath, Jack looked up at the clone. “Stop trying to be Ianto Jones.”

Ianto's gaze hardened. “I am Ianto Jones,” he insisted.

“No!” Jack shouted, slamming the mug onto the table he had sat at, hot coffee sloshing over his hands and scalding his skin. He didn't even notice. And he adamantly ignored Ianto's instinctive twitch wanting to hurry over to Jack to take care of him. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm down again – which wasn't working all that well.

“You try to convince me that you are him,” he pressed out through gritted teeth, his own voice sounding colder than he had heard it in a long time.

“I made a pretty good job, wouldn't you say,” Ianto seethed back, advancing on Jack menacingly.

The two men stood glaring at each other for a few moments, their nostrils flaring as they involuntarily took in the other's scent because of the close proximity.

Afterwards, they couldn't say who made the first move, but suddenly, they were all over each other; attacking each other's mouths with more bites than kisses, their angry hands manhandling each other, and their bodies pushing at each other, none wanting to yield, until Ianto had Jack pressed against the cold stone wall. The biting kisses continued even as they tasted blood on each other's tongues eventually.

Jack was in a daze. His whole being was befuddled with Ianto Jones, his scent, his painfully familiar hands, the angry yet soft noises he was making. It was all coming back to him now to slam into him with a vengeance, making him helpless to this onslaught of sensations. He let out an involuntary shocked gasp when he suddenly found himself pressed face first against the rough, slightly moist brick wall. The unpleasant scent of mould invaded his nostrils, helping to think a little clearer again. But this short moment of sanity was gone as soon as it had come because when Ianto's hands fumbled open his trousers, and when the young man's hard body pressed against his from behind, his mind shut down again completely.

The moan that was ripped from his throat as suddenly, naked skin met naked skin, was completely involuntary. He pushed his ass back as Ianto ground his hard erection against him. The steel-hard column slipped between his cheeks, and he clenched his buttocks in anticipation. At the same time, Ianto's hand slipped around his body to grasp Jack's treacherously hard cock so that he didn't know any more if he should push back or press forwards.

“See,” Ianto hissed hotly in his ear. “If I'm not him, how would I know how to do this? Know how to make you moan and beg for my touch?”

Anger flared hotly inside of him again, which was almost smothered when Ianto indeed twisted his wrist in a move that had Jack moaning loudly. In the past, Ianto had even managed to make him come like this in no time at all, but what was like a cold shower right now was the hint of hesitation Jack sensed in the strong fingers. It had been a long time ago that he had been treated like that, but he remembered how it should be as if it had been only yesterday. And this felt wrong. The man behind him may know what to do in theory, but his body wasn't used to this, like the coffee making, like the tie, like the kissing that, he now recalled, had been a little clumsy as well even though it had been fuelled by burning anger.

This realisation suddenly gave him new strength and determination. Spinning around in Ianto's embrace, ignoring the painful feeling of ripping his cock out of the surprised young man's grip, he turned the tables on them again. Assailing Ianto with more kisses, he urged him backwards, almost stumbling about their trousers that were halfway down their legs, until the back of Ianto's thighs hit the sturdy table down here. Bending Ianto backwards, he forced him down on his back onto the hard surface of the table. A loud crash reached Jack's ears as if through cotton-wool, probably the mug tumbling to the floor and shattering, together with whatever else had been placed on the table. He didn't care.

Reciprocating the passionate kisses, Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack's neck, and drew him down onto the table with him, instinctively wrapping his legs around the backs of Jack's thighs.

Since their trousers were still pushed down their hips, their erections were squashed together between their stomachs. Their moans being swallowed by each other's mouths, Jack thrust against Ianto forcefully. The young man urged him on by tightening the grip of his legs around Jack, pulling him impossibly closer.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed all of Ianto.

Without interrupting kissing Ianto, Jack's shaking fingers tugged at the tie around Ianto's neck until he could pull it off, and then scrambled for the buttons of Ianto's waistcoat and shirt. Ianto reciprocated by tugging at Jack's shirt as well, pushing it off strong shoulders, and after that wrenched the T-shirt up so forcefully that they heard some of the seams rip.

When Ianto was naked from the waist up, Jack attacked the rest of his clothes. He tugged and pulled the trousers down Ianto's legs until he could finally discard them together with shoes and socks. He didn't lose any time after that; in the blink of an eye, he was as naked as Ianto, and upon the young man again. Their bodies becoming slick with sweat as they pressed against each other, they drowned in a long, filthy kiss again, eager fingers scrabbling at slippery skin for purchase and as much contact as they could get, not even stopping as sharp nails broke pale and golden skin.

Ianto cried out as suddenly, Jack pushed two fingers, slick and cold with lube (he had given up guessing where Jack always hid the lube to have it so close at hand a long time ago) into his unresisting body. Arching up into Jack's demanding touch, he loosened his tight hold around Jack's waist so that he could spread his legs for him, bracing his heels on the edge of the table for better purchase.

Unrelenting, Jack pushed his fingers in and out of the tight channel, eventually taking a third. When he pulled them out again after a few minutes, Ianto bemoaned the loss loudly. Jack silenced him with a deep, brutal kiss. Wrenching the young man upward and off the table, he spun him around, and bend him over the desk. One hand was placed firmly in the small of Ianto's back to hold the heaving body pressed to the table in place. With his other, he gripped his slicked up cock, and directed it between the pale cheeks.

He pressed forward, watching as the head of his cock breached the tight pucker with unrelenting force.

Ianto stiffened beneath him, and tried to stubbornly swallow the pain. Instead, he pushed back against Jack demandingly. Although he remembered having sex with Jack, for his body, it was the first time that he was taken by a lover, his body being forced open by Jack's hard cock. But this realisation did nothing to deter Jack. Complying with Ianto's urging for more, he pressed forward until he was buried inside the young man to the hilt.

Holding their trembling bodies still for a few moments, Jack then slowly drew back, almost slipping out of Ianto completely, before he pushed in again firmly. He set a strong, punishing rhythm that had both men moaning and gasping, their increasing cries and the obscene slapping of flesh meeting flesh unnaturally loud in the tunnels housing the Archives.

Ianto eagerly met every one of Jack's thrusts. When Jack's hand crept around his body at one point to close it around his leaking cock, the young man was pushed over the edge. His body stiffened before it was wrecked with blissful shudders. Jack growled loudly when the frantic contractions around his cock hurled him headlong into climax as well. Burying his fingers tightly in the soft flesh of Ianto's hips, he spilled inside of him.

Their loud, frantic puffs of breath as they tried to recover themselves echoed loudly against the tunnel walls. After his rapid heartbeat had slowed down a bit, Jack pulled his spend cock from Ianto's body, wincing at the pained whimper the other man emitted. Lost and helpless, he stared down onto the young man who still lay sprawled over the table top face-down. The illusion was so perfect like that when just taking in the sweat-glistening, pale back whose smooth perfection was only marred by angry red scratches down Ianto's shoulder blades.

He startled when Ianto rose shakily, and turned to face him. They eyed each other warily. A sudden defeated, weary numbness overcame Jack that he saw reflected in Ianto's eyes as well.

Advancing on the young man, he gently reached for his hand, and drew him out of the Archives and up into Archie's former office, not really caring that both of them were naked, and could be caught by Jenny at any minute. A camp bed conveniently stood squashed into one corner even if Jack couldn't remember who had placed it there; Archie or maybe himself at one point. Since it didn't really matter, he led Ianto over to the cramped bed. Completely knackered and somehow in a daze, Jack slumped onto the mattress, and drew the hesitant young man down into his arms. Not wanting to think any more for tonight, Jack pulled Ianto against him in a tight embrace, and fell into a deep sleep.

He awoke with a warm body pressed tightly to his front, and with his nose pressed into a soft neck. The scent that encompassed him comfortingly...

Jack's eyes flew open. His frantic gaze took in the young man lying before him, and his mind started spinning again as he remembered what had happened – he looked at his watch – only this afternoon, just a few hours ago.

Him freezing must have wakened Ianto because the other man suddenly stiffened in his arms. For a moment, they remained motionless, childishly hoping that the awkward situation would evaporate into thin air. It wouldn't, of course, and therefore, Ianto stiffly sat up eventually.

Jack dared hardly breathe as he watched the young man's tightly drawn shoulders. For a moment, time seemed to have frozen. Then, Ianto rose, and left the office. Waiting for a moment, Jack stood up as well, took in a shaky breath, and followed Ianto downstairs.

They pulled on their clothes that were strewn all over the not really immaculate ground, silently and without looking at each other even once. Together, they fled the Archives although they'd rather fled each other's presence.

Almost stumbling into the kitchen, the two embarrassed men encountered Jenny who sat at the kitchen table with her dinner. Neither man wanted to meet her eyes since she couldn't possibly not know why they had not returned upstairs for hours now.

“There's eggs left, and toast's over there,” she greeted them without addressing the elephant in the room either. “I tried to make coffee, but it's horrible, so I made tea.”

“Your father's daughter, I see,” Jack smiled, and although a little strained, it was an honest smile at least.

Jenny shrugged in reply. She shovelled the last of her toast and eggs into her mouth before she rose from the table. “Help yourselves. I'm downstairs in the lab to check on Ianto's test results. They should be ready.”

Of course they were ready, how could they not. The only reason she hadn't brought them up yet... Swallowing heavily and blushing fiercely at the reminder which she probably hadn't even intended on purpose, they let Jenny pass.

Jack honestly considered skipping dinner, he wasn't hungry anyway. But he had taken the coward's way out this morning already. He didn't want to run away again.

Since Ianto seemed to feel the same, the two men sat down at the kitchen table, and started picking at their food.

Eventually, when both really wanted to end this farce of having dinner together like two adults, Jenny barged back into the room, carrying a tablet in her arm.

“Test results are here,” she declared needlessly, and sat at the utterly silent table. The silence between the men, almost palpable, further dropped a notch in its iciness.

Jenny decided to ignore the strained situation, and instead lodged into her findings.

“Basically, I learned nothing that we didn't know already,” she shrugged, and tapped away on her tablet. “Ianto's DNA is a mix of his own – albeit with Rift energy interwoven –, jellyfish –“

“Whoa, wait a minute!” Ianto exclaimed, affronted. “Jellyfish!?” Aghast, he stared from one to the other.

Jenny shrugged, impassive. “Yeah. Jellyfish are very long-lived.”

Ianto spluttered, and wanted to make known what he thought of the notion exactly, but no words would come to him.

“Don't worry,” Jack threw in, and the young man turned to meet Jack's surprisingly encouraging, amused smile. “Someone once told me that I'm not as special as I thought, that there were a lot of jellyfish out there that were aeons old as well.”

“But you actually don't _have_ jellyfish DNA adulterated with your own,” Ianto snapped, scandalized.

The young man's affronted outrage despite the grim situation almost made Jack snicker, but the grin was wiped from his face when Jenny suddenly continued with her findings a little impatiently.

“Anyway. Apart from the jellyfish that constitute only a small part of your DNA, a considerate share is Jack's.”

Sobering all of a sudden again, Jack stared at Jenny, frozen to the spot. He'd actually forgotten that part of the log's report. And now he had even proof of it – that the man next to him was not Ianto Jones but a being pieced together from the DNA of a man he had loved as well as his own, and what not else. The last small, treacherous but precious spark of hope he had left that this was all a bad dream, and that this was really Ianto Jones brought back to life was suddenly snuffed out for good. In that moment, he knew how the real Ianto must have felt when Lisa's consciousness inside the pizza delivery girl's body had tried to convince him that it was really her, and that everything would be all right, the new body was no reason to have any qualms about them being together.

This was worse. So much worse.

This being not only had Ianto's memories, it looked like him, a perfect copy down to the last mole. But only that. A copy.

He suddenly felt sick that, in his anger, he had given in to the tempting illusion this afternoon. Balling his hands into shaking fists, Jack stared down onto them. He couldn't look at Ianto in that moment.

“Having Jack's DNA woven inside your own was their master plan to acquire Brummell's immortality,” Jenny explained, addressing Ianto. “No idea if that's even possible, Jack said his immortality isn't inheritable, but maybe you notice something nonetheless? If I understand Jack's condition correctly, you should need less sleep which could maybe be a first perceptible indicator. Surely fast healing abilities are part of the package and the like are others that we could test...”

Jack sucked in a shocked breath at her words. The scratches on Ianto's back. They had been gone earlier again. He had stared at Ianto's unblemished back, but hadn't even made the connection...

Everything came crashing down on him at once as certainty hit home. He felt numb, and bile rose in his throat.

“Jack?”

He flinched violently when Ianto placed his hand on to his arm, and tried to meet his gaze in concern. Jack raised his gaze, staring wide-eyed at the other man.

“Don't touch me,” he hissed as soon as Ianto's touch had shaken him from his trance violently. He brushed Ianto's hand from his arm brusquely, and jumped up to bring a little distance between them.

Ianto blinked at him, baffled, but then, his gaze hardened. “What's your problem?” he seethed, and, rising, advanced determinedly on Jack.

But the Captain took another step back. Exactly this anger was what had let to this afternoon's mistake...

“You are my problem!” he shouted viciously.

That made Ianto stop cold. “W-what?”

“I told you to stop trying to be Ianto, but you don't get it, do you,” he lashed out, deeply hurt, confused, and probably in shock.

The young man backed away a step in the face of Jack's violent anger.

“I... I am Ianto. You know that,” he tried to convince Jack.

“Because you don't know any better. But you are not him. I can't believe I was so weak to let myself be fooled by you. This afternoon... it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe for Ianto, but he nonetheless shakily forced air into his constricted lungs. Involuntarily, he wrapped his arms around his upper body in a protective gesture.

“I-I thought...” He shook his head, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He tried to sway the other man through a pleading look, but the coldness that stared back at him frightened him. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to steel his face into the detached, professional mask he was used to so that he could lock all his tumultuous feelings behind it, but he couldn't. It didn't work. Instead, his whole body was shaking with emotion.

Ianto took a deep breath, desperately trying to scrape together some control. “Don't tell me...” He stopped, and bit his lip so hard it almost bled. “When we made love toda...”

“That wasn't making love,” Jack spat back. “That was nothing but a cheap fuck born from desperation.”

Ianto stumbled back one more step, the words almost like a blow to the gut. He hated how vulnerable he was at the moment, but the madness of this whole situation was taking its toll on him. And then, earlier, when they _had_ made love – because he couldn't call what they had done anything else, even if it had started out in anger –, instead of making him strong, it had weakened him being near Jack again. It now made him vulnerable to Jack's cruel words.

“Please, Jack,” Ianto begged under sudden tears, his voice breaking, and his face so open and vulnerable like Jack had seldom seen it. “You don't mean this. Tell me you don't mean it.”

“I do. You are nothing to me.” Jack forced himself to look Ianto dead in the eye, trying to convey all the disgust he felt although it was so, so hard, the young man's desperate tears tearing at his heart. But he had to stand strong...

“Jack!” Jenny shouted in shocked outrage, finally having enough of Jack's behaviour. “Why are you so cruel to him?!”

“Because this is killing me!” he screamed back, the thin thread that held his emotions together finally snapping violently. “He stands there, looking like Ianto, having all his memories, sounding like him, even smelling like him, but. He. Is. Not. Ianto. Ianto Jones is dead, he died in my arms five hundred years ago, and nothing short of a miracle will ever convince me otherwise.” He turned to the clone again who looked at him with wide, tear-filled, sorrowful eyes. “You are not him. You are a thing.”

He could practically watch in slow motion as Ianto's heart shattered in front of him, and Jack couldn't help but feel sick although, or maybe because, it had been his own words that had caused this damage. His own heart felt as if it was being torn to pieces, feeling the same desperation and pain that he read in Ianto's eyes, and sudden ice cold horror gripped his whole body. How could he have said that to Ianto?! How could he be so narrow-minded when he'd always thought himself more tolerant than others, so sure of himself that he would never condemn another living being like others had him. No matter his personal feelings, he should be more understanding and accepting towards the clone, regardless who the other was. He could empathise with a stranded alien in a warehouse that was being carved up alive so long ago, could weep for it, but he could not feel compassion or sympathy for the man standing before him? He couldn't believe it himself how cruel he was.

Jack startled when Ianto suddenly stumbled a step back, spun around, and abruptly fled from the room. He could only stare after him stupidly. Only the sound of the front door slamming brought him out of his shocked trance.

He met Jenny's eyes. The blond woman stared at him with a mixture of disbelief, accusation, and compassion that, at the moment, felt like pity to him.

He turned back because he couldn't bear her gaze at the moment.

Balling his hands into fists so tight his nails cut into his skin, almost making his palms bleed, he stared at the kitchen table unseeing. The only sound in the kitchen was his heavy breathing.

The loud honking of a car outside rattled him from his stupor again. All of a sudden, he felt as if being dowsed with ice-water.

“How could you, Jack!” Jenny hissed again, now more accusation than anything else lacing her tone.

Jack swallowed heavily. “Like I said,” he croaked out. “I... I can't... He is...”

“He is your second chance, you idiot!” Jenny burst out, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. “He _is_ your miracle. Why won't you see that!”

Blankly, Jack stared at her. Oh, he had seen it, but he hadn't _wanted_ to see. It was too painful to even dare hope for a second chance with the man he still loved after hundreds of years. What if, for some reason, that hope shattered like glass? His heart would shatter to pieces as well should that happen, without any chance of recovering. So, he didn't really have another choice but only think of the negative aspects discovering Ianto's clone. He couldn't _allow_ himself to think anything but negative.

But now...

Seeing Ianto break before his eyes had been like seeing him die in his arms all over again. It felt so horrible hurting him like that that, all of a sudden, Jack realised one thing with a vengeance; that there were no negative aspects. That, for once in his long life, the universe had had mercy on him, and had given him a second chance without demanding anything from him. And even more important, this time around, it looked as if his happiness wouldn't have to be a temporary one if what Jenny had told them about the test results proofed to be true.

He had been such a fool...

Shocked to the core and trembling with deep shame, he met Jenny's gaze, wide-eyed.

Her hard, accusing eyes softened, and she smiled a gentle smile at him. “Go after him,” she said. “It's not too late. You can fix this.”

Nodding mechanically, Jack forced his feet into motion, putting one food in front of the other, and then, he was suddenly running. Running out the front door, out of the house, and... and then, he stopped. Frantically, he looked around. Where would Ianto go?! Somewhere he felt safe? A coffee shop maybe? Or somewhere he could be alone? But where could tha...

Groaning at his own stupidity, Jack snapped open his vortex manipulator. Since Ianto was made from a unique DNA, Jack could localize his position. Scanning for a moment, Jack suppressed the triumphant little noise that wanted to burst past his lips when he got a signal.

With his heart beating like mad, he dashed down the street to where he had located Ianto, hoping, no, praying that he could earn the other man's forgiveness.

Ianto had come far in the few minutes he had ahead of Jack.

Frowning, the Captain stopped eventually, only a few blocks from the Torchwood Two House, and checked his vortex manipulator again. That couldn't be right. Ianto was really too far away, and he was still moving... at a speed that couldn't be on foot. Had he taken a bus? Surely not. In his agitated state, surely his body had only told him to run, not thinking where to exactly.

But then...

A sudden, instinctive sense of foreboding gripped his whole being.

Jack contemplated running back and getting their new car when, in the next second, Ianto suddenly stopped.

Without wasting a second thought to the possible dangers that could await him or that he wasn't even armed, Jack raced in the direction of the coordinates Ianto was. His only thought was to get to Ianto, and see for himself that he was alright.

A few minutes later, Jack slithered to a stop in the middle of a slightly rundown industrial area. Withstanding the urge to bend over and brace his hands on his knees while he caught his breath with deep gulps of air, Jack looked around frantically. One look and slight adjustment to his vortex manipulator later let him pinpoint the exact location where Ianto was between all of these buildings.

Although he wanted nothing more than to dash forward, barging in all (lacking) guns blazing, Jack reigned himself in to be cautious. He mustn't do anything that could put Ianto at a risk. Therefore, he slowly approached the run-down warehouse his vortex manipulator had chosen as his destination, his watchful gaze darting around for any threats.

_Why does it always have to be abandoned warehouses?_ Jack thought irritably, the thought springing up unbidden. _Why are there still empty warehouses in the first place?_ Wasn't Earth overpopulated enough? Didn't they need the space?

But empty or not, it obviously was a property of Winterbreak since the company's logo was clearly visible high up on the building, even if it was a little worse for wear. The company didn't seem to have used the building for a long time now, but right now, it must come handy to them as an unobtrusive base of operations in their search for their missing illegal experiment's specimen.

Since his vortex manipulator at least didn't register any CCTV, and as there were no guards in sight as well, Jack breathed a little easier.

Squeezing through a hole in the hurricane fence surrounding the building, Jack squatted next to a pile of rotting crates where he had a clear view of the nearest door.

Painfully feeling the absence of any kind of gun, Jack activated the built-in communication device in his vortex manipulator.

While the connection built, he congratulated himself on being so level-headed as to call for back-up. Ianto would have his head if he came in there all on his own to play the dashing hero (even if he pulled off the dashing hero-thing incredibly well).

“Well?” Jenny's smug voice greeted him when she took the call. “You wanna tell me that you won't come back because you're on your honeymoon?”

“Listen,” Jack hissed urgently. “Winterbreak's here. They have Ianto.”

Silence reigned on the other side of the line for a second. “Where are you?” Jenny asked then in a serious, no-nonsense manner.

“Old warehouse of the company. I'll send you the coordinates.”

“Okay. I'm on my way. Wait for me, I'll bring the big guns.”

Nodding, Jack terminated the call.

He waited for a few minutes, hidden from view, but at one point, the waiting became too much for him. At the very least, he had to get in there, and take a look if Ianto was alright. What if...

No.

He shook his head sharply.

He mustn't think such thoughts, but fact remained, that he had to know what went on in there. Maybe, he would be too late when Jenny arrived.

Taking a last careful look around, Jack ran over to the metal door. To his luck, it was unlocked, and no alarm secured the building. Maybe that, together with the absence of patrolling guards, meant that this whole operation of Winterbreak's had been rather hasty and uncoordinated, and that they really didn't think Jack and Jenny would ever find them here anyway. Could be they still didn't know who they were at all, who had snatched away their number one test subject right from under their noses.

That could proof to their advantage in disappearing after this was over...

Wincing slightly at the soft squeaking sound the door made as he pulled it open, Jack carefully slipped inside. Thankfully, crates and stacks of boxes and barrels right next to the door hid him from view. Peeking around the litter, he squinted to see anything in the gloomy warehouse, the only light that fell through the dirty windows high up was the orange light of the nightly street lamps outside.

There was no one here. He didn't see any other light source anywhere nor could he detect any voices. His vortex manipulator though showed him eight sources of heat, right over there in an adjacent room. And there! A bit of light shone from under the partly closed door as well.

Being careful to keep silent, Jack crossed the huge warehouse hall, always keeping close to the walls. When he got closer to the door that had “office” written on it in frayed letters, he could finally hear voices.

“... really glad we could find you again, J8,” a man said in a businesslike, falsely-pleasant voice.

“My name is Ianto Jones,” Ianto replied through gritted teeth, and Jack could imagine the furious, stubborn look on the Welshman's face.

“You wish,” the man snorted. “You're nothing more than an experiment.”

“Sir, wouldn't it be wiser to take him back to London now?” another male voice chimed in, sounding both nervous as well as excited and impatient. “It's just, we hadn't him awake before. I need to do so many tests!”

“Shut up, doctor Laurel,” the first man snapped irritably.

Carefully, Jack crept closer so that he could spy through the gap in the door. The first thing he saw was a thin, pale man in a lab coat nervously wringing his hands as he pleadingly looked at a middle-aged, elegant man in a suit.

He had no idea who this man was, with his haughty, cool demeanour and his expensive suit all looking like one of the villains out of these Bond-movies Ianto had loved so much. But right now, Jack. Really. Didn't. Care. Because the only thing his red-hazed vision could focus on was, as he shifted slightly to take in the rest of the room, the two guns pointed right at Ianto's head who was kneeling before the suited man like a man to be executed.

It felt as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, staying still right that moment instead of barging in there. If he startled the men with the guns or if they were trigger-happy...

Squeezing his eyes shut for a second to get the picture of Ianto being hit by a stray bullet out of his head, Jack focused his attention back on the conversation inside the office, barely daring to breath.

Doctor Laurel stopped wringing his hands, and took a step closer to the other man, once more attempting to reason with him. “Sir,” he said imploringly. “Mr. Brummell. All the work we did over the years. Our goal's just within our reach!” he explained, his cow-like eyes shining with excitement. “I am sure when our tests are done, they will confirm that we got it right with J8. Surely you're impatient to tell the good news to your grandfather!”

Brummell's grandson also. But Jack got the sinking feeling that the businessman wasn't as happy about the experiment's results as doctor Laurel was.

“Good God, man! How stupid can you be,” Brummell moaned in disbelief. “You still don't get that the lab explosion wasn't an accident, right? Someone stole J8, and blew up the lab to destroy everything in there.”

“But then it's all for the better that we got him back!”

“No, you fool!” Brummell shouted. “They hacked our files before they destroyed everything. They took copies, and, whoever they are, if they go public with the stolen logs, then we're done for.” The man snorted. “Even you, in your isolated little nerd world, should know that half of the things you did there for Project Ambrosias is beyond illegal.”

That shut doctor Laurel up for a second, and he gnawed at his lower lip, but there was still a defiant glint in his eyes, so as if he didn't care in the slightest about illegal or not, just about his work.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Brummell turned to Ianto who had kept silent during the whole argument.

But now, the younger man sneered at Brummell.

“No matter what you do to me,” he spat, “if you get rid of me or not, you're done for anyway. The copies of the logs are safe, and tomorrow, your company is history.”

That was surely true, they had all they needed to bring down Winterbreak, but Jack didn't like it one bit that Brummell obviously planned to make all evidence of his company's actions disappear; Ianto, as the living proof of their illegal tampering, first of all. Where the heck was Jenny!?

Brummell shrugged, not impressed by Ianto's words. “You words hardly concern me, not coming from a creature that's hardly more worth than a lab rat.” He looked at the men with the guns standing behind Ianto, and gave a curt nod.

Icy cold panic shot through Jack. This wasn't by far the most spectacular or even dangerous situation they'd ever been in, but for the first time in his long life, Jack realised with painful clarity how high the stakes were, what he could lose here and now. He hadn't until this moment, not even with the real Ianto until it was too late. But now, the prospect of losing Ianto a second time, let him see red. He jumped up, and threw himself against the door, barging into the room in the same second doctor Laurel let out a furious “No!”

Jack crashed into one of the guards, both of them tumbling to the ground. Laurel had rushed forwards to topple the other guard to the floor.

A shot rang out, and fear ran through Jack as he heard it as if from far away, but he had his hands full fighting off the guard as that he could further ponder what might have happened.

Strong hands gripped him roughly, and pulled him away from the man, hauling him to his feet. The other three waiting guards had stepped in. Of course he had known that they were in here, outnumbering him spectacularly, but he couldn't have simply watched as they shot Ianto.

Trashing around in their hold to no avail, his frantic gaze sought out Ianto who was held down and being kept in check by one of the guards and a gun. But obviously, Jack noted with pride, not before breaking one of the men's nose with a well placed elbow or his stubbornly hard forehead.

Within a few seconds, the hassle was over. Jack was being forced on to his knees with the barrel of two guns pressed tightly against the back of his skull, Ianto knelt next to him, at gunpoint as well, and doctor Laurel was being hauled to his feet by the guards.

“I won't let you destroy my masterpiece!” he screamed into Brummell's face, and writhed in his captor's hold.

Brummell cocked an eyebrow, clear annoyance written on his cool features about the unexpected disturbance. “You won't get a say in this, doctor Laurel,” he said impassively, snatched the gun from one of his guards, and shot the scientist in the head.

Deadly silence rang inside the small office after the shot had faded away, Jack and Ianto staring in shock at the corpse, marvelling at Brummell's cold-bloodedness.

Straightening his suit, Brummell threw the gun back at the guards. He fixed Jack with an intense stare, a small, amused smile playing around his lips. “That's a surprise, Captain Harkness. But what an honour to finally meet you. Should have known it was you causing all this trouble; you have a reputation for it.”

“You're done for, Brummell,” Jack hissed. “You won't get away with this.”

“Oh, you'll see,” the man drawled in a bored tone, “that I will. You know perfectly well that death is not the only option to let someone like you vanish forever.”

Jack blanched as a dozen horrible scenarios flashed before his inner eye at what they could possibly do to him to get rid of him. Memories of darkness, and the rich smell of soil in his mouth and nose, and suffocating, over and over, resurfaced, and he only noticed that his whole body trembled when he felt Ianto comfortingly press his shoulder against Jack's. The touch brought him back in the here and now, and, gratefully, he flicked his gaze over to Ianto, smiling at him. His smile dimmed right again though, when he noticed the strain lines around Ianto's eyes and the sweat beading on his brow and upper lip.

“You alright?” he asked, worried.

Ianto nodded. “I'm fine.”

He had heard that a lot, Jack recalled, when the young man had been everything but fine. Had the guards hurt him? Had the bullet...

“How did you find us anyway?” Ianto turning to Brummell with his question cut off Jack's train of thought, and he turned to the man as well, even if he recognised the attempt at distraction for what it was.

Brummell rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with all the talking, but the mocking smile playing around his lips told them he would indulge them anyway.

“You have a tracking device implanted in you that's untraceable for any sensors,” he told Ianto. “Imagine our surprise when, after the explosion, it suddenly started transmitting, and turning up with readings from fucking Scotland.” His accusing gaze flicked towards Jack for a moment. “My men watched the house you holed up in, but they couldn't get any readings from the inside, so we had to wait.”

_Yeah, bad luck for you_, Jack thought. What a pity for them that the unobtrusive Victorian house was upgraded with alien tech that made it impossible to get any readings be it from heat sensors or other surveillance equipment.

Brummell shrugged. “J8 took care of our problem in the end by storming out of the house.” A cruel smile played around Brummell's mouth. “Having had a lovers' twist, gentlemen? Oh, I know all about your involvement with Ianto Jones, Captain. You'd be amazed what we know,” he continued as he saw the baffled widening of Jack's eyes.

Ianto glared at the man with hard eyes. “It's none of your business,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yours neither,” Brummell grunted mockingly. “Since you're not Ianto Jones but a sad imitation of him.”

“You're wrong.”

Jack's firm words rang out like a shot in the room. While Brummell cocked a surprised, amused eyebrow, Ianto's head had swivelled round to stare at Jack with wide eyes. Turning to Ianto, Jack looked him firmly in the eye. “You _are_ Ianto Jones. And nothing anyone – including myself – does or says could convince me otherwise.”

Against his will, tears gathered in Ianto's eyes as he stared at Jack, his heart beating like mad. He wanted to open his mouth to reply something, anything, but no words were coming to him that could express what he was feeling right now.

The intense moment between the two men was broken by Brummell's snort. Their heads snapped around to glare at him.

“Unbelievable, the two of you,” he chuckled. But then, he waved his hand dismissively. “But be that as it may, it's of no concern to me. I've wasted enough time here as it is. Gentlemen.” He looked at the guards who released the safety catches on their guns, the ominous clicks echoing loudly through the room.

“Frankly, I'll be glad when this project's over,” Brummell sneered, and turned around to leave. “Better to save our company's reputation than my grandfather's foolish wish.”

“I'm sorry, Ianto,” Jack said softly without listening any more to Brummell. Once more, he felt Ianto shuffle closer, and touch his shoulder to Jack's. He turned his head to catch his lover's gaze.

“I'm sorry, too,” Ianto replied with a pained smile. “But thank you.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds, but then, Jack drew in a deep breath to speak. “Ianto, I...”

A volley of shots cut Jack off, the BANG BANG BANG almost deafening them. Pained shouts and grunts sounded around them as some of the guards were hit, but Jack didn't heed them. Instinctively, he lurched himself forward to push Ianto to the floor, and cover him with his body protectively.

Gun fire whizzed over their heads back and forth while the two men cowered in the middle of it all with no chance of getting to safety.

Once more, within a few seconds, it was over. Five dead guards lay sprawled around them, and through the open door, the light in the office spilled over Brummell's corpse on the concrete floor. Jack picked himself up, and met Jenny's eyes who stood in the doorway, two smoking guns in her hands. Their gazes locked, but she didn't say anything reproachful to Jack for not waiting for her. They both knew it would have been too late if he'd played it safe and waited.

Nodding at her in thanks, Jack didn't even really mind that he wasn't the dashing hero to save the day for once, or that this whole fiasco ended uncharacteristically unspectacular for him (even if there were fatalities, he was used to more epic drama when he was involved), he was just happy that Ianto was alright.

Turning to the young man under him, he wanted to help him sit up.

A painful cry tumbled from Ianto's lips, and he sagged back to the ground.

“Ianto?!”

Panicked, Jack turned the young man around, running his hands over his body frantically in search for any injuries.

He didn't have to look long. His hands came away dark and sticky with blood. In horror, Jack's gaze flew to the drenched fabric of Ianto's waistcoat and shirt at his side.

“You're fine, huh?!” he screamed. Irrational, all-inducing fury and panic infused every cell in his body.

Ianto grimaced, and peeked down at the gunshot wound in his side. His breathing getting more laboured by the second, he touched his fingertips to the hole in the wet fabric of his clothes. “You needed to concentrate,” he pressed through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you fool,” Jack breathed, and pulled the young man into his arms. His gaze swivelled back to Jenny. “Call an ambulance.”

“We can't, Jack,” she answered imploringly. “How do we explain the dead bodies around us.”

“I don't care!” he snapped. “Think of something.”

When he saw Jenny nod, he ignored her, and turned to Ianto once more. He pressed his trembling hand on the wound, but he felt warm blood still pooling forth, finding its way through between his fingers only to drip to the floor. There was so much blood. There hadn't been so much blood the last time, but still, it happened again...

An agonised cry let Jack concentrate again on Ianto's face. He tried to smile reassuringly at him although he was at the point of a breakdown himself, his sanity only hanging by a thread that was connected to the spark of life that was still inside Ianto.

“I love you,” he suddenly burst out, over and over, his voice getting rougher with every time he said it. Reaching up, Jack caressed Ianto's cheek, not minding the blood on his hand that now stained Ianto's face. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in the end, choking on a sob.

With much effort, Ianto raised his hand to cup Jack's cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. “I'm sorry, too, Jack,” he rasped, his breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. “I really thought we... and now we're here again, me dying. 'S only been a few days since the last time...”

He was starting to ramble, they both knew it, so Jack shushed him with soothing noises and eventually, he bend down to press his lips against Ianto's. And there he realised, absent-mindedly, that for Ianto, or at least in his memories, it really had only been a few days since Thames House. Only been a few months since Owen and Tosh's deaths, and only been a short while ago since he saw Gwen the last time although, in reality, she was dead for hundreds of years already. And... and it was the first time the younger man heard Jack saying “I love you” to him. The last time they had been in this situation, Jack had cruelly rebuffed Ianto's love-confession, the House of the Dead where Jack had finally said it back never having happened to this Ianto. Oh God, it must be still so fresh in his mind, Jack saying “don't”...

He had wanted to tell him properly. After realising earlier today what he really felt, Jack had planned to say it properly to the other man, to do everything right this time after he had grovelled on his knees, and begged for forgiveness. So why, why did he only get the chance to say it now when death was upon them again?! It wasn't fair! Where was his second chance he had thought the universe had gifted to him?!

As if to make up for all the times he hadn't said it, Jack once more whispered a broken “I love you” against Ianto's lips.

“I'm scared, Jack,” Ianto sobbed, so that Jack instinctively tightened his arms protectively around Ianto. He nodded shakily, and pressed his forehead to the other man's.

“Don't be,” he choked out. “I have you.”

As if from far away, he noticed Jenny returning. She placed a first aid kit next to them; so that meant she probably hadn't called an ambulance.

It was too late anyway, Jack realised with a sudden, crushing clarity. He once more tightened his hold on Ianto's trembling form, and looked him deep in the eyes while their foreheads were still pressed together, just breathing each other in.

A few minutes passed, Ianto's ragged breathing became softer. Finally, it stopped.

“I love you,” Jack whispered so softly that the words were only a gentle exhale against Ianto's lips. Tears blurred his sight, then cleared again when they fell onto Ianto's still face. He looked so peaceful. He had the last time, too...

“I'm sorry, Jack,” Jenny said softly, and he felt her comforting hand on his arm. He didn't react.

He didn't know how long he sat there, holding Ianto close, but eventually, Jenny's voice penetrated the fog he seemed to be surrounded by, trapping him in his own world of misery.

“We have to go, Jack,” she said, softly but urgently. “Maybe someone comes looking for Brummell.”

He knew she was right, but he couldn't move. Not yet. He needed a few more moment's with Ianto.

Because, how would they get Ianto's body out of here? It was out of the question that he would leave him behind. No. Jack would take him back to Cardiff, and give him a proper burial, maybe even take him to Newport to bury him in the original Ianto's grave; everything he loved on this world united in this sole dank hole in the ground. He would...

A sudden jolt went through the body in his arms, and Ianto surged up with a deep gasp, his forehead crashing into Jack's nose when he wasn't fast enough to rear back. Shocked, Jack stared at the miracle in his arms, barely daring to breath while the throbbing pain in his nose clearly told him that this wasn't a dream but sweet, blessed reality.

“Oh shit, we were such fools!” Jenny cried. “How could we forget that this was a likely possibility?!”

Yes, how could they forget, Jack wondered for himself, completely shocked, but somehow, at the same time, completely calm. Maybe, because until this moment, he hadn't really dared to believe.

But now, staring down at Ianto, living, breathing Ianto, Jack believed. Joy spread through him so strong, he felt as if he would burst. It burned hotly inside of him, bright and soothing, rushing through his veins so strong that not even the power of the Rift inside him came close to it.

His whole body shaking, Ianto stared up at Jack, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. “Jack,” he gasped. “What...”

Laughing and crying at the same time, Jack bend down to press a kiss against Ianto's lips while he wrapped his arms around Ianto exuberantly. “Welcome back!” he laughed hoarsely.

Ianto frowned. “Welco... Oh...” His eyes widened even more, then he blinked, and his gaze flitted to his side. Pushing the ruined fabric up, he stared at unblemished skin that was a sight for sore eyes to Jack. Ianto blinked some more. He seemed to need a few moments to come to terms with what had happened, what his being alive implied – or rather, proofed –, but eventually, he struggled to sit up, Jack eagerly helping him.

They stumbled to their feet, and for a moment, they simply stood next to each other, their hands clasped tightly together while they looked at each other.

The impatient clearing of a throat snapped them out of their own little world, and they turned to look at Jenny.

“We need to get out of here,” she simply said.

Nodding, the two men started moving.

“What about the bodies?” Ianto asked as they hurried out of the warehouse, his hand still clasped tightly in Jack's who seemed unable to let go of him.

“Leave them,” Jenny answered, and held up a small remote control.

Jack had to suppress a snort. She seemed quite fond of explosives.

When they were a good distance away from the warehouse, Jenny pressed the button, and in the next second, a boom resounded through the night, and everything around them was illuminated with the red-golden light of flames crawling up the walls of the warehouse.

The three watched for a moment as all evidence was destroyed, then, they slipped away into the night.

When they reached the livelier parts of Glasgow, they slowed down a bit, trying to blend into the evening crowd milling about while Jack discreetly disabled every CCTV nearby with his vortex manipulator. Better save than sorry.

“So...” Ianto eventually began, but fell silent immediately again.

“Yeah,” Jack answered, and threw a look at Jenny who walked a little ahead of them.

“I'm really...”

“Seems so, yeah.” Jack shrugged. Impulsively, he took Ianto's hand, and stopped suddenly to look the young man deeply in the eyes. He pulled Ianto's hand up to cradle it between their chests. “I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Not when it brought you back to me. I...”

Ianto nodded. “I'm quite glad myself that I'm not dead, but...” He cocked his head questioningly. “Why the sudden change of mind. This afternoon you said...”

“I know, I know,” Jack hastily cut him off, and stepped even closer to Ianto. “I was an ass. I was just so... so hurt and confused. And angry. That's not an excuse, I know, but it's the only explanation I can give you. By now, I have realised that after all that has happened to me, my chance at happiness stands right in front of me.” He cocked his head, a pleading expression making its way onto his face. “That is, if you'll have me?”

Ianto stared at Jack for a long time. So long in fact that the older immortal eventually started to squirm under this intense gaze.

Finally, Ianto smiled. “I do,” he said softly. “This is just such a shock. I'll need some time.”

“Of course! Yes, you can have all the time you need,” Jack assured, relieved. “I'll help you.”

“Thank you.” Ianto nodded quite seriously. “And you're forgiven.”

The relief got stronger, the weight of trepidation dropping from Jack's shoulders like a rock he'd had to carry for, well, for centuries actually.

A smile that could have brightened up the whole street lit up Jack's face. Giving a little whoop of joy, he wrapped his arms around Ianto, and picked him up a few centimetres before actually spinning them around once.

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Ianto laughed, clinging to Jack until the Captain put him onto his feet again. Still laughing, Ianto leaned forwards to press a firm kiss onto Jack's lips. Then, he took the older man's hand in his, and started pulling him along.

“Come on. Much to do still,” he said, his voice now all businesslike, doubtlessly compiling a list in his head right now. “We still need to come up with a story to bring Brummell down – I'll take care of that, I'm good with things like that.”

“I know,” Jack grinned fondly.

“Aaand we need to deactivate this tracking device they put in me...”

“I can do a very thorough search,” Jack leered. “Can't have things in you that aren't approved by me.”

Ianto ignored Jack completely except for the fond smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Then we have to get out of here.” He peeked at Jack from the corner of his eye. “And I mean, really get away from here. Leave Earth.”

Jack cocked a surprised eyebrow. “Really? You want to leave Earth?”

Ianto nodded. “There's nothing for me here, Jack. I'm way out of my time, this planet could as well be one at the other end of the universe. It's too different from what I knew.” Ianto shrugged. “So, why not start over.”

“I'd like that,” Jack beamed.

“Then that's settled.” Ianto gave a decisive nod.

They had reached the Torchwood Two base again. Jenny was waiting for them at the top of the stairs, leaning in the open doorway. They met her gaze. She nodded at them, smiled, and then went inside.

Their hands intertwined tightly, Jack and Ianto followed her.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> *Okay, for those of you who don't know what I – or Jack – were rambling about: My last uni paper ever was about Dandies, and Beau Brummell was the Father of all Dandies at the beginning of the 19th century. I was just looking for a name for the adversary, and chose Brummell since I was in the middle of my paper at the time I started this fic.
> 
> The fact that Ianto is the eight clone is an allusion to the fourth Alien film where Ripley is also the eight version in a series of previously failed clone-experiments which she then kills as she comes upon them to release them from their suffering. The idea to use this element of Alien came later in my writing process when I suddenly realised that the scene I had in mind does in fact coincide with the Alien films.


End file.
